Revenge
by Silverstar
Summary: They go out to save people from dangerous situations every day. It's all in a days work for them...until an old enemy decides to make an appearance and the Thunderbirds are put in danger...
1. Chapter 1

The red haired trouble maker stood back, admiring his handy work.

"Perfect," he smirked, dropping the paint brush to the floor.

"Virgil's gonna go mad when he finds out," his companion warned, but he was grinning as he produced a camera and took a photo of a very pink looking thunderbird 2.

"Alan! Gorden! Virgil's coming!" The eldest Tracy brother stuck his head round the door. "Time to hide!"

Gorden rolled his eyes. "Damn it! I knew we should have added spots!"

Footsteps echoed around and the terrible two dived for cover, behind Thunderbird 4. Alan stuffed a corner of his t-shirt in his mouth to stop himself from laughing as a look of horror swiftly replaced by fury shot across his brother's face. Gorden sniggered as Virgil slowly ran his hand over his beloved Thunderbird 2.

"GORDEN!" He erupted. "I am going to kill you!"

Gorden stepped out from behind his Thunderbird. "Why on earth would I be involved with 2's little...makeover?"

Virgil gave him the _I am going to leave you on 5 for twenty years and then drown you _glare. "You!" He yelled, "are gonna die!"

Scott appeared once more at the top of the steps. "What's the fish done now?"

Gorden shot him a disbelieving look. "But you helped!" He exclaimed.

"So did Sprout!" Scott protested.

Virgil stalked out the hanger. "Fix it and pretty damn quIck!" He yelled back at them.

"Ooh, touchy!"

"Cut it out Gorden!"

"And that," Alan said finally into the video camera, "is Virgil's reaction to his oversized greenfly having a little makeover." He smirked, sending it up to John, on Thunderbird 5, up in space.

Scott couldn't help grinning. "Well she does look colourful." He chuckled.

Gorden replayed the video, promptly going into hysterics at the outraged look on Virgil's face. Scott and Alan watched in amusement as he rolled around on the floor, laughing.

"Well at least 1's okay...what?" Scott hadn't missed the evil glint in his younger brother's eye.

Gorden pretended to look innocent. "What? I just though she'd look a bit better...orange? Neon orange?"

Scott stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was for real, before running to check his Thunderbird.

Alan raised his eyebrows.

"Wait for it," Gorden whispered. Then:

"Gorden! Why the hell would you paint 1 orange? That's it - 4 is turning green!"

"Never!" Gorden protested, trying to protect the yellow Thunderbird but it was no use.

"BOYS!"

Scott froze, spray paint in one hand, and turned to look at his father. "Um...hi?"

"What is going on?"

"We thought the Thunderbirds could do with a little makeover?" Alan suggested.

"It was Gorden!" Scott yelled, fleeing for the door.

"Hey! Scotty, wait for me!" Alan bolted after him. Gorden grinned.

"I think that Tracy 1 would look better blue. What ya think Dad?"

"My office. NOW!"

Damn.

* * *

><p>"So what do you think?" Virgil asked. John frowned.<p>

"I still think my form of revenge is better, but then again, it's your thunderbird that's been turned pink."

"No chocolate for a week would work for you maybe Johnny, but draining the swimming pool will work much better."

John groaned, glancing at something off screen.

"What's wrong?" Virgil asked, as concern entered his voice.

"Gravity's going a bit weird. I'll have to fix it. I'll speak to you later."

"Bye..." As the call ended, Gorden's voice echoed up from below.

"But DAD! 1 looks WAY better orange!"

"4 looks better green." Scott replied quickly.

"What about 3 then?" Jeff pointed out.

Silence. Virgil grinned. _Didn't think that bit through, did you fish?_

"I forgot purple paint," Gorden muttered.

"You won't be going on the next mission."

Silence once more. Virgil ran his hands over the piano, longing to play it, but also wanting to hear his brother's reaction.

"WHAT THE HELL? IT WAS JUST A BIT OF FUN!"

"Next time you'll know to stick to gluing doors shut."

"I can't believe you encourage that," Scott muttered. He'd been trapped in his room for over five hours last time Gorden had played that prank.

The door slammed and Gorden headed straight for the pool.

"You're not in your swimming gear, kiddo," Scott pointed out?

"I'd noticed," Gorden gave him a death glare.

"Don't worry, he won't be getting wet!" Virgil called out cheerfully.

"Wait - what?" Gorden managed to yell in mid air before a sickening thud came from the pool.

"Gorden!" He'd thought the prankster would look before he jumped...

Scott was already climbing into the empty swimming pool. Virgil scrambled down beside him.

Gorden was lying awkwardly on his ankle. "I hate you," he muttered at Virgil.

"Yeah, love you too," Virgil ruffled his hair, earning himself another glare. He felt around the ankle and Gorden winced, shrinking back and drawing his ankle away from Virgil.

"Hey fish, let the doc check it out!" Scott slung his arm round Gorden's shoulders.

Virgil glanced at him, annoyed by the doc bit. "Just cause I bothered to complete the first aid course," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he muttered. Gorden reluctantly let him check out the ankle. "You might have just sprained it, but I want to check it out in the Infirmary just in case." He announced to the water loving brother.

"Great," Gorden groaned.

"Lucky you," Scott grinned. "But you did paint 1 orange..."

"And 2 pink..." Virgil chimed in.

"And 3 blue!" An outraged cry came from the house as Alan discovered the fate of his thunderbird.

Gorden shrugged. "So you deserved it..." Virgil finished.

"Who deserved what?" Jeff inquired, appearing in the doorway.

"Um..." Scott and Virgil looked at each other.

The alarm went off.

"I never thought I'd be so glad to hear that klaxon," Virgil grinned.

**_So what did you think? This is my first ever Thunderbirds story, so some reviews would be awesome! See you guys...I will update sol as I have already written the next chapter. It takes so long to type up, ya know? Yeah...you're probably finding me very annoying now...*dashes off to find where someone left the chocolate...*_**

**_See you guys later!_**

**_Kat. X_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_I'm here! *skids in for VERY late update!* School was awful today, so please don't kill me! Have mercy! Oh, and warning to all John fans, I might be a tiny bit mean to him..._**

**_Enjoy! (If you can...)_**

With a final click, the generator lost all power and John found himself floating in mid air in the pitch black.

"Damn," he groaned, finding it the only safe thing he could say, while he waited for the emergency lighting to kick in. The soft red glow filled the thunderbird as the lights came on and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The gravity decided to change and he hit the ground, slamming into the metal chair.

He cursed loudly. "Time to call for a spot of help, I think. Why did Brains have to take the repair equipment with him for?"

Thankful for the red glow of the back up lights, he drifted to the control panel. Suddenly, he wished he hadn't eaten that last chocolate bar...

"International Rescue, come in. International Rescue? Please?"

Cursing the timing, the call had come at, he quickly replied. "This is International Rescue, how can we be of assistance?"

"There's been some sort of explosion, and a group of miners are trapped. They'll die if you don't help!"

"Yes, alright," John tried to keep from floating to the ceiling.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

John glared at the speakers. Why did some people have to be so rude? He frowned: the voice was familiar...

"International Rescue are on their way, sir," he called out. As the line went dead, he gazed regretfully at the button he now had to press. His brothers were relaxing and he didn't think that seeing a pink Thunderbird 2 would install much confidence in anyone... Sighing, he pressed the button.

Where did he know that voice from?

* * *

><p>Jeff carried his son to the Infirmary, inwardly groaning. An emergency, and an injured Gordon was really not what he needed right now.<p>

Gordon looked longingly at the door. "Stay here," Jeff ordered.

"And if I don't?"

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Then you'll live to regret it."

With Gordon not going anywhere (he hoped), Jeff headed for the study.

Scott, Virgil and Alan where already there, clearly impatient to get going. Jeff raised his eyebrows at Alan who realised he was sitting on the desk, when thee was a perfectly good chair to be used...

Jeff sat down. "Right, John, what's the emergency?"

"Why is he doing an impression of a bat?" Alan broke in.

"Geez, the gravity really has been busted," Virgil whistled.

John glare at them from his position upside down in Thunderbird 5. " Mine collapse with nine minors trapped underground, two with serious injuries apparently. There's a fire in the right tunnel, by the way and...oh for crying out loud! Quit the laughing, Sprout!"

"I've got it," Scott announced and threw a cushion at his youngest brother.

"Behave!" Jeff chided, but he was grinning, which spoilt the effect.

"So we'll need the mole and the firefly..." Virgil thought aloud.

"Yeah," Scott agreed, stopping throwing cushions at Alan.

"Alan, go with Virgil in Thunderbird 2. Scott, take Thunderbird 1."

"Yes, sir," Alan grinned, reaching for the chocolate on the desk.

"Don't even think about it!"

"But it's chocolate!"

"You're as bad as John!"

"Shut up!"

"E-e-exc-cuse m-me Mr T-t-Tracy, I just t-thought you'd l-like t-to know t-that t-the t-thunderbirds a-are b-back t-to their original c-colours..." Brains called from the doorway.

"Oh, thank god!" Virgil glared at Scott and Alan.

"Thunderbirds are go!"

* * *

><p>Not even a sprained ankle can keep a good prankster down for long, Gordon thought to himself as he positioned the bowl of water above the study door. Then he hid. And watched. And filmed...as the ice cold water fell on top of his father.<p>

"What the - GORDON!" Jeff yelled.

Gordon grinned. "Well you did want to keep me in the Infirmary!"

_**So, what did you think? Review? Maybe? And I wasn't that mean to John... *dodges a flying book* Well, maybe a bit, but I'm planning to be a bit more mean next time...not to John...*fails to spot the random objects flying at her and has to duck very quickly* So yeah, I might be a bit cruel to the Tracy boys...*grins evilly* **_

_**See you! **_

_**Kat x.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello! I am...ALIVE! *collapses on the floor* **_

_**Aren't you guys lucky - an update on both Thunderbird stories in just two days! Kidding, you deserve, you've been very patient! Thanks for that!**_

_**so here's the next chapter. I know I said I was going to mean to the Tracy boys, but I decided to wait for the next chapter to do that. So here you go! I write this quickly while it was raining waiting for my Grandma to come and visit us, so sorry for any mistakes. It'd be helpful to have a beta *hint hint* Please?**_

_**Well, grab ya chocolate and get comfortable. Everyone ready? Then here we go!**_

* * *

><p>Scott circled the danger zone in Thunderbird 1. It was a real mess and glancing around, he could see that John was right about the fire. They didn't have much time until the flames reached the trapped miners. Virgil was going to have to hurry up if they were going to be able to succeed...<p>

"Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 2, I'm going to land."

"FAB, Thunderbird 1," Virgil's voice echoed from the radio.

"What's your ETA?"

"Um...30 minutes."

"Damn it, Virge, why does that oversized greenfly of yours have to be so slow?"

"Are you insulting my 'bird?"

"Um...no?" He grinned.

"Liar."

"Charming." He eased the rocket closer to the ground. "Okay...Thunderbird 1 out." About to touch down, Scott double checked he was clear to land. "Weird. I don't remember the fire being that close before." He took to the skies again, realising too late why the fire was close.

The fireball engulfed the Thunderbird and he swore, trying to regain control. "I might be in a spot of trouble here," he called into the radio. "Damn." He swore as Thunderbird 1 swerved towards the ground. Struggling to regain control, he tried to pull his 'bird up.

"Hell!" Thunderbird 1 spiralled out of control. "Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 2, mayday!"

* * *

><p>The cloaked figure crept back into the shadows. "One down, four more to go," he murmured to himself. His face illuminated by firelight, he drew a hand over his brow, frowning as his fingers slid the screws into place.<p>

"Like a ticking time bomb."

The ground above rumbled ominously as if it were about to collapse. The figure sneered up at it.

"You wouldn't let me onto the team, Jeff, so now I will destroy it." He turned and slid into the waiting truck. "Go."

The truck sped off, leaving the little yellow box ticking away in the cavernous space that echoed danger.

In the dim light of the cavern, there was no one to warn the approaching International Rescue of the sign on the box.

_**Warning: EXPLOSIVES**_

* * *

><p>"What the hell? Thunderbird 1, come in. Thunderbird 1, come in." Virgil felt fear rush through him. Accelerating his Thunderbird to her full speed, he desperately tried the radio. He wasn't picking up Scott on his radar either. "Thunderbird 1, are you receiving me?"<p>

Alan emerged from checking the equipment, gazing longingly at the controls. Glancing at his older brother, he picked up on the tell-tale signs of stress. Ignoring what Virgil was going to probably say, he slid into the co-pilot's chair.

He'd been banned from being in the chair since leaving base, when he had accidentally managed to start up the Thunderbird and start flying it himself.

Virgil had not been impressed. Two had been scratched, but, as Alan had protested, its hard to fly from the co-pilot's chair, and he had only flown because Virgil was being 'a slow slug'.

Virgil didn't comment as Alan collapsed onto the chair. "The equipment is all in order," the youngest Tracy reported.

"FAB," Virgil replied automatically, trying to rediscover Thunderbird 1 on the radar. He ran a hand through his hair in annoyance. "Why isn't this stupid thing working?"

_Unless Thunderbird 1 has crashed, _the voice in his head suggested. Virgil reached for the radio.

"What's happened?"

Finding Alan more annoying then usual, he snapped at him,"Mayday call. Now shut up!"

Silence fell and Virgil felt guilt rush through him as he caught sight of the look of hurt that crossed his brother's face.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm just a bit stressed out."

"Who's it from?"

"What?"

"The mayday call. Who's it from?"

"Scott."

Alan had been hoping it was just Gordon messing around again back at base and that it had been meant for Jeff not Thunderbird 2, but Scott didn't mess around at rescues. "Have you tried John? Maybe it's our radio not working?"

"Our radio's fine," Virgil gestured towards the radio which was receiving calls from the fire crew down on the ground. "It's Scott's radio that's dead."

Alan leaned forwards trying to peer through the thick smoke which billowed around the Thunderbird as they reached the Danger Zone.

"No sign. That's good, right?"

Virgil raised his eyebrows at him.

"Oh. Thunderbird 1, come in."

"Damn you Scooter! Respond or else something very unfortunate will happen to your Thunderbird! Like it being squashed by '2!" Virgil yelled into the radio.

Alan held his breath.

There was a crackle of static through the radio, and then the voice of their eldest brother replied: "Thunderbird 1 down. Major tail damage, but fly-able."

"Scott!" Virgil yelped, wishing he had a camera to film Alan who was dancing round the cabin in relief.

"Hi, Virge...and for your sake, I hope you were kidding about squashing my Thunderbird."

"You okay?" His medical instincts were kicking in. Major tail damage...that would have created an awkward landing with a series of big jolts. Head injury...

"I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Just this damn shoulder giving me grief again," the pilot admitted.

"From the last rescue?"

"Yeah. I think I hit the floor a bit hard and it's been re-damaged. I'll be fine though," Scott picked up on the concern in the medic's voice.

"I'm still checking you out when I get to you," Virgil warned him. "Okay, Thunderbird 2 landing."

Alan bounded back to the co-pilots seat. Virgil eased his Thunderbird slowly to the ground. "Right, go get the Mole. I'll meet you outside," he instructed the younger man.

Grabbing his medical kit, he ran outside and skidded to a halt as he caught his first glimpse of how bad the damage was on Thunderbird 1. Gaping at the aircraft, he didn't realise Scott was staring in horror at Thunderbird too.

"You are one lucky so and so," Virgil muttered.

Scott stood motionless. "What the hell?" He ran his hand over the damaged Thunderbird. "I'm sorry baby, I should have paid more attention." He murmured to his Thunderbird.

"You weren't paying attention?" A gasp of shock made them both turn. Alan was staring at Scott with wide eyes.

"I was talking to you guys on the radio," he explained. "And then some bloomin' fireball was coming at me."

Virgil stared at shock at the Thunderbird, realising how close he had come to losing his brother. Pulling Scott into a hug, he muttered in mock anger:

"Idiot."

Scott grinned. "Charming."

Virgil snapped into his job as medic. "Did you hit your head?"

"Geez, it's just a little cut! Stop worrying!"

"You're one to talk," Alan commented.

"What's that meant to mean?"

"That you would win the prize for top smother hen."

Scott ruffled Alan's hair. "That's my job, okay, Sprout! Get used to it."

Alan gave him a look of mock horror. "Help!"

"Sorry to break up the party, but what's the plan of action?"

Scott frowned, going back into his role as field commander. "Alan, you man Mobile Control. V, you can take the Mole...I'll go in with the Firefly. When you hear voices though, I'll see if I can get through to them."

"FAB!"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Okay, so what did you think? See, I was kind...ish...but I'm going to be cruel next chapter. And is there anyone out there who wants to kill me for being mean to Scott? Hey, he's one of my favourite characters too! But I read that some people are mean to their favourite characters...<em>**

**_So yeah. I'll try and get the next update out by the due date I set myself. _**

**_Review? Maybe? It'd make my day!_**

**_See ya!_**

**_Kat x._**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hi! *Comes racing into the room and trips over a chair* Yeah, I am very clumsy! I found this amazing picture which says: I am not clumsy, it's just the floor hates me, the table and chairs are bullies and the wall gets in the way! Isn't that awesome? Lol. But I am over-excitable because my best friend/crush is back from holiday. He is amazing and always manages to cheer me up, cos I had a few family problems this week. *cringes*. But your wonderful reviews cheered me up no end so a massive thank you for that! **_

_**Kattfan12001: I'm glad you're enjoying the story! And I agree - Scott has no chance when Virgil is in medic mode! *grins***_

_**Xenitha****:**** Oh don't worry! I'm planning to be mean to a certain field commander! *grins evilly***_

_**No one has come forward as a beta yet. Please? *puppy dog eyes* I am willing to write a Thunderbirds Christmas special for you! Actually, I am going to do that anyway, but I'll write another one for whoever cones forwards to beta? Oh come on - please? **_

_**Never mind! Here's the next chapter of Revenge, as promised. I am on time! *Gasps* I am AMAZING! Lol! Of course I'm not! *Grins*. **_

* * *

><p>"Come on! Just a little further this way and a bit further forwards and," John grabbed the chocolate bar out of the air. "GOAL!"<p>

"And the crowds go wild," Gordon muttered, but he was grinning at his older brother's antics. "Any news yet?"

John double checked the screens. "Nah, nothing yet. I can only assume everything's going to plan. All the same, I might give them a call in a minute or two just to double check."

At that moment the screen started flashing. "Aha! Here they are!" Answering the call, he found himself looking at Alan. "Greetings, Sprout! Murdered Mobile Control yet?"

"Hey!" Alan protested. "That was Gordon! And that was ages ago, anyway!"

John grinned at the screen. "If you say so..." Finding himself fixed with glares from both Alan and Gordon, he held up his hands in mock horror. "Geez, what is it with the death glares this morning?"

Alan rolled his eyes.

"Ah, well, we're just doing it 'cos we like to annoy you," Gordon announced cheerfully.

"Um, well, when you guys have finished talking about glares and any other random subjects, I've been asked to tell John that Virgil needs the co-ordinates so he can set a course in the Mole."

"Oh...damn. I meant to do that before." Turning on Gordon, he frowned at him.

"What?" The prankster demanded.

"Your time is up. Dad is closing in on you and from the look of him, you have pulled a prank." John mimicked a robot voice as he spotted Jeff coming into the Gym behind Gordon.

Gordon spun round to find himself effectively trapped in the Gym. "Oh...any ideas how I can escape?"

"Die?" Alan suggested.

"Grow wings and jump out the window?" John supplied.

Gordon raised an eyebrow at him. "Dude, you have eaten_ way_ too much chocolate."

"It is not physically possible to eat too much chocolate," John announced. "Now go away, the pair of you. I need to speak to Virgil."

"He's trying to get rid of us!" Gordon pretended to sob. "You wound me!"

John's fingers hovered over the end call button. "Ha ha, very funny. Now go away. You're distracting me. Go swim till your legs drop off or something."

Gordon and Alan ended their calls and John sat back to remember there was no gravity. Practically swimming through the air, something Gordon would have found hilarious, he managed to open a call.

"Thunderbird 5 to Mole, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear Johnny, do have the co-ordinates?"

"Sending them to you now," He replied, leaning over to press a button, but instead drifting away from the radio. "Oh this just sucks. When is someone going to come up and fix it for me?"

"Sorry, we decided it was high time you learnt not to have chocolate for breakfast!" Virgil chuckled through the radio. "I don't know actually. I thought Dad was meant to be taking 3 up to you with Brains so they could fix it?"

John shrugged. "Well they're sure taking their time. Take care by area 21 by the way, the tunnels there are on the verge of collapsing."

"Sure thing. Mole out."

John looked out at the earth below, hoping to see a red rocket heading towards him. "No such luck," he muttered aloud. As he floated into the air again, he swore loudly. "Oh crying out loud! Someone fix the bloomin' gravity!"

* * *

><p>"Mobile Control to Firefly."<p>

It took a whole minute for Scott to actually realise that he was being called. "Uh, yeah?" He answered, driving the Firefly forwards.

"I've got a stressed out Police Officer saying he's received a bomb threat and that we're to clear the area. What do you think? A hoax?"

Scott peered through the smoke catching sight of another flame. "Probably. No harm in scanning the area though. Ask John to check it out."

"FAB." Alan replied ending the transmission.

Scott drove the Firefly towards the shape in the distance, which was Mobile Control. "Okay, that's the fire out. Any word from V?"

"Nope, so I assume he's nearly there."

"I guess." Trying to block out the sirens of the emergency services, which really weren't doing much at all, Scott turned to face the tunnel. "I think I'm gonna head down there though. He'd be nearly there, anyway."

"Or we could both go down there?"

"Not a chance Allie. I know you want to play a more active role in this mission, but sorry, someone has to man Mobile Control."

"Why can't you?" Alan muttered.

"Cos he's the Field Commander?" Virgil's voice echoed through the radio. "Right, ready for you to come and see if you can get through to those miners yet, Scott."

"FAB." Turning to Alan he fixed him with a stern look. "Don't you even THINK about leaving Mobile Control and following me."

"You spoil all my fun," Alan joked. Turning serious again, he nodded. "I won't, I'm not so stupid as to face you in Smother Hen mode if I got hurt down there."

"Oh knock it off," Scott ruffled the youngest Tracy's hair, and Alan ducked away, glaring at him.

"What is it with you guys and the hair?" He complained. Scott grinned at him before heading down the tunnel.

* * *

><p>It was still dark even with powerful lights that were built into the Mole. Virgil blinked trying to see further into the inky blackness. Jumping at a soft knock on the side of the Mole, he grinned sheepishly.<p>

"Good job, the Terrible Two didn't see that," he whispered to himself as he let Scott in.

"Are you coming?" The field commander asked.

Virgil glanced round. "Nothing much left to do here, if I dig any further then the cave these miners are in will collapse. So yeah, I may as well come with you."

Scott nodded at him before climbing back out of the Mole. "Well they should be nearby according to the information Alan's sent me."

Virgil tapped on one of the rocks. "Hey, this one's hollow."

Scott crossed over to him. "The cave could be directly underneath us then."

"Hello?"

"Try Morse Code," Alan called through the radio.

"Seriously?" Virgil muttered. "Sorry kiddo, but they haven't got any lights to reply with."

The radio fell silent once more. Scott shone the torch around the rocks. "There! Look, there's a gap."

Virgil frowned. "That just seems too easy."

"I know, right? Never kind, it'll make the job quicker." Scott directed the beam of light into the gap. "Well here we go."

* * *

><p>Alan counted to ten in his head before speaking once more to the Police Officer. "So, what you're saying is that, somewhere in these mines there might be a bomb that will blow up in ten minutes, but you don't know where it is and you don't even know if there is one, and you don't really know if it even is ten minutes it will explode in?"<p>

The Police Officer met his gaze. "Yes."

"Right. And you're asking me, to evacuate the area in case something blows up."

"Yes."

Alan did nothing. The police officer looked at him expectantly. "Look, my surveys aren't picking up anything."

"That's because it's too far underground for them to pick it up!"

"International Rescue's equipment is highly advanced. Even if I couldn't 'pick it up' then our space station would."

"Thunderbird 5 to Mobile Control! Thunderbird 5 to Mobile Control."

The officer gave him a pointed look. Alan decided that if he wasn't careful, he was going to end up punching the officer.

"This is Mobile Control. Go ahead Thunderbird 5."

* * *

><p>In the darkness of a cave, the red numbers flashed on the yellow box. 5:00 minutes left till detonation.<p>

* * *

><p>As red warning lights started flashing, John had finally fixed the Gravity. Falling to the ground, he clambered onto his chair and spun round to face the control panel. His fingers flew over the buttons as he struggled to figure out what his Thunderbird was telling him.<p>

Finally having figured out what was going on, he felt cold. "Thunderbird 5 to Mobile Control. Thunderbird 5 to Mobile Control."

Tapping the floor impatiently with his foot he glared at the computer screen. "Come on Alan! What the hell is taking you so long?"

"This is Mobile Control. Go ahead Thunderbird 5."

"ALAN! WHY WEREN'T YOU REPLYING?"

"Sorry! Okay? I'm sorry. Now what's the problem?"

"Thunderbird 5's scanners are picking up some of sort of hazardous explosives below ground. In area 11."

"Like a bomb..."

"Yes. I guess it could be." Alarms wailing in his ears, John yelled into the radio: "Alan - get Scott and Virgil and get the hell out of there!"

There was only static as a reply.

* * *

><p>Something was rumbling. Virgil spun around on the spot, shining his torch back where they'd come from.<p>

"What the hell?" Scott muttered as the ground shook.

"Back to the Mole!" Virgil yelled, dashing back through the tunnel. As the rocks tumbled down around them, he launched himself through the air, skidding into the Mole.

Trying to calm his irregular breathing he turned to Scott. "Well that was close-" He broke off, realising his older brother was nowhere to be seen. "Scott! Scott!" The rocks were still crashing down and a series of explosions sent him scrambling back into the Mole.

The caves and tunnels around him collapsed, right on top of Scott.

* * *

><p><strong><em>O<em>_kay, I feel evil now. The girl of evil cliff-hangers is back! And any Scott fans who want to kill me? *ducks as bricks fly towards her* Sorry! *Gives evil laugh*. if it's any comfort, then I'm not letting the other Tracy's get away lightly either *holds up blanket protectively.* _**

**_I think I killed the mistakes, but they are probably there, smirking at me. *glares at any mistakes*_**

**_By the way, I don't know much about Morse Code, so sorry if it was possible for the supposed miners to reply without a light, by knocking or something. _**

**_So, what did you think? Please review! It would make me VERY happy! And no doubt my best friends would find it highly amusing to see me walking round with a goofy grin on my face! _**

**_The next update will be on Saturday. Okay? This Saturday coming. I'm planning to update once a week, so that will be...um...a chapter every Saturday! Aren't you lucky? Nah, I'm kidding. You definitely deserve it!_**

**_You guys are amazing! _**

**_See you soon with the next update! _**

**_Kat x._**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Hello! *skids into room* A massive thank you to all of you who reviewed the last chapter - I was amazed when saw all the review alerts in my inbox! A big welcome to all of you who have joined us:_**

**_Sunny7777: I'm sooo glad you're enjoying this story and yes, you have guessed what's coming up! I feel sorry for the hospital - an injured Scott? Well he's stubborn anyway and that's at home! *grins*_**

**_bubzchoc: Thanks for reading and here's the next chapter!_**

**_JoTracy123: Oh I know you all hate cliffies! I only do them 'cos I love you guys! *smiles sheepishly*_**

**_smish123: I know! Poor Scott... *sniff sniff*_**

**_And for all of you who have reviewed from the beginning:_**

**_katfan12001: Oh there will be a prank. I think...let me check *runs off to computer* Yes, there will be a prank! :) And here is the requested evilness!_**

**_I know there are more of you, but if I was to name everyone, then I wouldn't get this out until Midnight, and I wanted to give you all an early update as a treat! :D_**

**_So here you all go, and don't hate me at the end of it! You'll soon see why! And for any confusion: Brains, Fermat, Tin-Tin and her family are all off the island. I might bring them into it later! *Grins*_**

**_Everyone comfortable? Then let's read!_**

* * *

><p>John stared at the screens, not really paying attention to the incoming call from Tracy Island. The communications must be down, the aftershocks or, if God forbid, a bomb had shaken the area, then the Mobile Control would have rattled.<p>

Swinging the chair round to face the other controls, he stared at the radio, willing it to spring into life. It didn't and he found himself faced with the descision to contact Tracy Island or try his brothers' watches.

"Dad all but hyperventilating or watches?" He thought aloud and then raised an eyebrow at his reflection in mirror. "Seriously, do I even have to think about that? Watches."

Feeling a sudden chill run through him as neither Scott or Virgil answered, he frantically contacted Alan. "Come on, Allie!"

"J-John?"

Almost throwing himself at the computers showing his youngest brother in relief, he yelped in a rather high-pitched voice: "ARE YOU OKAY?"

"I'm okay...Mobile Control...well it looks like Brain's lab did when some idiot let Gordon in there."

"I didn't mean to let him trash everything," John protested. "How bad is the damage exactly?"

"See for yourself," Alan replied pointing the watch face at the smouldering heap that was once known as Mobile Control. Bits of metal were strewn all around and there was clear evidence of an explosion.

John gaped at it. "Tell me, how the **_hell_** you got out of that?"

Alan shrugged. "Don't ask me. But I can't get through to Scoot and Vir- um...V," He trailed off, hurriedly correcting his mistake as a bedraggled looking fireman came up behind him.

"One moment, please sir," He said politely. "I'll call later Johnny, and keep trying to get through to Scott and V."

The computer screens went blank as the connection was severed. John sat still trying to figure out what would hav

e brought down the connections between him and Scott and Virgil's watches. Trying to pinpoint their position, he brought up the co-ordinates of the route the Mole had been heading on. The Mole!

"Thunderbird 5 to Mole, please respond."

After five minutes of just static, he finally realised that the connections would be down. The magnetic field from when the bomb exploded would have wiped out all communication systems within two miles. Although he had been able to get through to Alan by his watch which surely meant that the watches were working?

"What are the watches made of?" He frowned out of the window at the stars. Tapping his finger on the window ledge he blinked, realisation dawning on him. The magnetic field wouldn't have wiped out the watches: they didn't have the right type of metal in them!

The connections would surely be back on-line for the watches by now, then. And Virgil had been the furthest away from the supposed bomb. Biting his lip, John tried to call his younger brother.

After a few minutes, he was being to grow despondent when the cough came through from the radio. John leapt to his feet before tripping over an empty box of choclate and falling promptly to the floor.

"Hello? Johnny?"

Picking himself up from the floor, he scrambled over to the radio and collapsed in an un-dignified heap over the computer screen. "Virgil! Are you alright?"

Virgil frowned, running a hand through his hair and frowning. "Yeah, a few cuts but nothing major...have you heard from Scott?"

"No - I thought he was with you?" John swallowed, seeing panic in Virgil's eyes. "Oh damn..."

"He was right behind me-" Virgil gasped. "But then, I don't know, I dived into the Mole and then everything started collapsing and, and, and then Scott wasn't there and-"

"Slow down, Virge!" John muttered, trying to find out the new co-ordinates. The screens flickered around him, and then alarms starting blaring. "What the hell?"

"John - what's going on?"

"Communications black-out," the electronic voice told John helpfully and he yelled a few curses in polish at it.

"John?"

"Virgil - head to area B64, heading 32 north. Try and contact Alan and then see if you can use the trackers in Thunderbird 2 to try and find Scott," John yelled at the radio, swinging round in the chair.

"Systems shutting down," the computer announced again.

"Shutting down?" He echoed, gazing at it for a moment. "Shutting down? But that can only be done from Tracy Isla- Oh shit!" Bounding over to the control panel, where a frantic Virgil was trying to find out what was wrong, he tried to contact base.

"Gravity systems shutting down," The computer bleeped.

"Get lost!" He shouted at it. "Thunderbird 5 to Tracy Island, Thunderbird 5 to Tracy Island, come in!"

Just static. He cursed again.

"For crying out loud, what the hell are you guys playing at? Dad? Gordon?"

The screens flashed and a worried looking Gordon appeared. Scrap that - a panicked looking Gordon. "John! Get ready for Thunderbird 3!"

"What's going on?"

"John?"

"Shut up Virgil!"

Gordon glanced back down at his watch. "I don't have a bloomin' clue. But there are some freaky looking guys saying they were going to have to demand that Dad went with them and that they had a bomb at the exact location of where one of us were, and then, I don't know, shots ran out and then," he paused, gasping for air, "And then Dad said to take Alan's rocket, so he obviously meant '3, and then somehow they started shutting down Thunderbird 5's sytems, and...okay, get ready for docking sequence."

John glanced out of the window, surprised to see the red rocket approaching.

"Gordon's flying '3 on his own?" Virgil spluttered. An ominous rumble started in the back-ground.

"Virgil!"

The screens began growing dark as the connection was lost.

"John - what do I do? I can't get through to Al-" The connection was lost and the screen went dead. Alarms blaring in his ears, John glanced round, trying to figure out how to get control back to his Thunderbird.

"Thunderbird 3 to Thunderbird 5, requesting clearance for docking sequence."

"Negative - I don't have any control."

"I'm coming in anyway!"

"Gordon!"

He slammed down the air-duct, opening it just as a final alarm blared in his ears. Glancing up, he made to run towards his younger brother who know stood in the doorway, staring in horror at him.

"What-" he didn't finish. As everything went dark, the last thing he heard was Gordon yelling:

"John! No!"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Okay, quite a short chapter there and mostly based around Johnny. And unfortunately for you, another evil cliffie. Who feels sorry for Gordon for having to have so much responsibility suddenly? *raises a hand*. Yeah, me too. And poor Virgil and Alan, cut off from any contact. And John - knocked unconcious *gives a sad hiccup*.<em>**

**_And what's happened to Scott? Anyone guessed which son has got the second bomb near them? *smiles and then dives into cupboard to avoid any books being thrown at her*. Is it obvious? I'm not sure... I feel sooo bad about deserting Scott like this, so luckily for you, another chapter tomorrow. Or on Sunday, if I don't manage to get it up tomorrow. But I will try: *makes a solemn promise*._**

**_Okay, buddies, I'm off to text my friend. We're going to see the new Hunger Games film: Mockingjay on the 21st so I might give you an extra update, because I will be in a good mood._**

**_So - you know the routine: yes, you've guessed what I'm going to say: Please review! :) It'd make me a very happy girl, and you never know, I might let you know what's happened to Scott..._**

**_See you tomorrow/Sunday,_**

**_Kat. x. _**


	6. Chapter 6

**_Hello again everyone! You can't get rid of me that easily! *Grins and finds another bar of chocolate under her laptop* _**

**_You must have been waiting for me to update because I got a review within 45 minutes of putting the last chapter up! Thanks for your lovely reviews, smish123 and bubzchoc, they made my day! Well technically it was evening here in the UK but never mind! I really apprieciated them! _**

**_So here you are! I couldn't bare to leave you waiting to see if Scott and John were okay, so here you are! I'd already written this on my laptop, but I had to help out at the Christmas Fair at my church, so I thought, why not? and posted it before I went! Enjoy! *Smiles*_**

* * *

><p>It was dark. And everything hurt. A lot. Scott Tracy blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. Flexing his fingers, he winced as pain shot up his left arm. So he had probably sprained that. He seemed fit enough apart from that, apart from a few cuts and rather deep gash in his leg, but really, all things considered, he hadn't got off too badly. No doubt Virgil would corner him in the Infirmary.<p>

"Virgil!" He gasped and made to sit up to find himself quite simply, unable to move. Panic shot through him - had he seriously damaged his back, like Gordon had in that W.A.S.P. accident so long ago? No, that was stupid, he realised, as he could feel his legs. Shifting slightly, he glanced down to realise with a jolt of shock, he was tied up.

"What the hell?" He muttered, trying to wriggle free. The rope was rough and he only succeeded in burning his hands. Wincing, he looked around and then jumped in surprise as a glowing light came out of the darkness. He was in some sort of cave, actually, come to think of it, he remembered falling and landing and then darkness. And Virgil and Alan...

He tried to wriggle free again.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you, Mr Tracy."

Cursing loudly, Scott glared at the figure that stepped out of the darkness. And then instantly recognised him. Gaping at him, he croaked: "You!"

"Oh, what a lovely reunion," the man sneered. "Remember me?"

"How could I not? You spent two bloomin' years following me around and then you tried to kill Alan because you were so desperate to find out what Dad was planning."

"And now I know. And Jeff Tracy will regret not letting me on the team when I kill off his sons, one by one."

"You'll never get away with it!" Scott yelled, kicking frantically as the man fastened a black and yellow box with red numbers. He stared at it, fear flooding through him for the first time.

"Ah, now don't worry, your brothers will have the same fate. You aren't alone." The man's radio buzzed and he turned away.

Scott slipped his hand downwards and slowly turned his watch-face. He felt it buzz as it started transmitting.

"What do you mean, you accidentally let the other Tracy Kid escape from the island in a bloomin' red rocket! It's not exactly hard to miss!"

Scott felt a smile spread across his face for the first time since the beginning of the accident. Red rocket - Tracy Kid? Only one possibility.

"Go Gordon," he whispered.

The watch on his wrist buzzed once more. He tried to look at it but it was impossible to see with the man in the cave.

"For God's Sake! You fools!" The man boomed.

Scott frowned, trying to remember the man's name. It began with an R, he was sure. Rar- Rarl, that was it. He knew it was a weird surname!

Rarl set the bomb down on Scott's legs. "Have fun," he sneered and disappeared. Red numbers flashed. It was set to detonate in 3 hours. That wasn't long...

Scott manoeuvred his wrist to see the watch and fiddled with it.

"Communications blackout," a electronic voice announced a little too cheerfully. Scott frowned. But if he was right, he should be near enough to Virgil for the two watches to communicate...

"Scott calling Virgil!"

"SCOTT!"

"Jesus, are you trying to kill my ears or something?"

"ARE YOU OKAY?"

Scott winced. "Um, well, I'm in a bit of a bad situation right now..."

Virgil frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well...it's like this..."

* * *

><p>Alan stared at the Police-Officer. "I'm sorry, I think I misheard you."<p>

"You heard me correct," The officer apologised. "I'm afraid, we are not allowing anyone into the mines. It's too dangerous."

Alan glanced back at the wreck of Mobile Control. Stuff these policemen and their stupid policies, I'm going in there. "I'm a member of International Rescue. I know the risks."

"Sure thing, but I can't give you any back up and I can't guarantee the safety of your, um, aircraft." The officer told him. He scuffed the ground with his toe. "Believe me son, I'm very sorry. I'd like to tell you that we could help but we've lost about half of our team who were in the mines when the bomb blew up."

Alan glanced between the Thunderbirds and the Mine. He imagined Virgil's reaction if someone tried to fly off in his precious Thunderbird 2. Alan grimaced, he wouldn't be best pleased. And Scott would just kill him if he let someone fly off or damage Thunderbird 1. Feeling torn, Alan lifted his watch, ready to speak to John, when he made his decision.

"Screw International Rescue, brothers are way more important." He murmured and sprinted towards '2. Manoeuvring Thunderbird 2 into the air and then setting it down, further from the explosion site, he glanced at '1. "Sorry, Scotty, but I don't have enough time. '1 will be okay," he thought aloud.

A loud roaring of engines made him look up and he stared in utter astonishment as the familiar red rocket that was Thunderbird 3 shot into view. "Gordon? What the hell is he doing with my Thunderbird?"

* * *

><p>Gordon let out a sigh of relief as he spotted Alan standing outside of '2 staring up at his Thunderbird with a look of amazement on his face. A soft groan made him turn, and putting '3 on auto-pilot so that it hovered in mid-air, he slipped out of the pilot's seat and ran back to where he had half carried, half dragged John from the battered Thunderbird 5 to Thunderbird 3. Now, it appeared, that his space loving brother was waking up.<p>

"Gordo?" John rubbed his head. "Ow."

"Morning sun-shine. Well, afternoon really, but that doesn't sound as good."

"What happened?" John recoiled as bright light flooded the Thunderbird.

"Hurts, huh?"

"Like hell. I feel like Virgil's landed '2 on me."

"That wouldn't have hurt as much," Gordon grinned. "I'm not altogether sure, actually. Something happened to '5, when the systems were shut down..." He shoved John back into the cahir. "Nope. Sorry, space-case. Virgil may not be here to smother you but I can do it instead."

John let out some incoherent mumble.

"Huh?" Gordon frowned at him. "Geez, you've practically been squashed by the air pressure that caused '5's ceiling to give way and now you're talking in russian. You are not human."

"Neither are you. You're a fish," John remarked drily. "Nah, I was just saying that I preferred it when you shoved a cream cake in my face."

"Oh, so I now have permission to do that?" Gordon brightened. His voice taking on a more serious note, he glanced at Alan who was clearly wondering why he hadn't landed yet. "I'm holding you to that."

"Gordon..."

Bracing himself for the inevitable question, Gordon turned and looked at his brother. "Yeah?"

"What about Dad? And Virgil and Scott?"

Gordon bit his lip. "Alan's fine. And Virgil seemed okay...ish...when you spoke to him, right? Dad...and Scott..." He trailed off, not being able to keep from shuddering. "I don't know. But we've got three thunderbirds which are faster than any other aircraft, so we surely must be able to track these guys down?" It turned into a question rather than a statement and he couldn't help wanting John's reassurance.

"We'll figure everything out, fish."

"Yeah...I guess. But how did they find Tracy Island?" He started pacing round the cabin.

"How did we build the Thunderbirds? How does '5 work? Why do you like '4 so much?" John announced.

Gordon stared at him incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"

John sighed. "We can't answer all the questions. To be able to answer them, we need to understand them."

"You've lost me."

"Yeah, thought I had. We need to find someone who would remember who these guys are. To be able to know we're International Rescue, surely they knew Dad."

"Then we should be all be able top remember. Apart from maybe Alan."

"I guess. Unless..." They glanced at each other.

"Brains."

* * *

><p>"And we do not know what is going on at the site of a rescue involving a mine collapse. The thunderbirds have been called out but some of their members were trapped underground when there was an explosion. Our sources say that there was a bomb and, what's that? We have just recieved news that Thunderbird 3 has arrived on the scene although its services are not needed. We will keep you updated so do not change the channel..."<p>

Brains practically leapt out of his chair.

"Excuse me, Mr Hackenbacker, is something wrong?"

Brains looked at the man in front of him. "N-no. N-not at all. I-I just w-w- was surprised to hear about the thu-thunderbirds. Oh, I th-think m-my phone's r-ringing. I-I n-need to g-go."

"Sure. Please think about my offer of you designing our new aeroplane."

Brains nodded and stepped outside the door where Fermat sat chatting to Tin-Tin. "S-sorry k-kids, but we have to g-go." As a news report came on, he went to turn it off, but Fermat grabbed the remote and they all sat staring at the screen.

"D-Dad? What's g-going on?"

Brains looked apologetically down at Fermat. "I have no i-id- clue."

"What do we d-do?"

"We go and see Penelope," Tin-Tin supplied.

* * *

><p>"Geez, am I glad to see you," Scott announced as Virgil half climbed, half fell through the hole in the roof of the cave. Virgil collapsed in a heap on the floor and rather ungracefully scrambled over to the ropes.<p>

"We've lost contact with '5. The systems were shutting down."

"There's someone on Tracy Island," Scott told him. "But Gordon's escaped."

"I know. I just wish I knew if Alan and Dad are okay. Gordon went to collect John."

"Right. Virgil...the guy who did this..."

Virgil jumped. "You know him?"

Scott winced as his brother yanked the rope too sharply. Virgil apoligised and continued cutting it.

"Yeah, I know him all right. He followed me round for two years and then tried to drown Allie in a swimming pool on holiday."

"How'd he get in?"

"Pretended to be a life-guard. He's called Rarl. He was...one of Dad's clients for a few years and when Dad started spending more time off work, he fingured something was up and demanded that he was allowed to join the team."

"And he didn't so nbow he wants revenge?"

"Yeah." They both fell silent, just the sound of the knife cutting through the ropes to be heard. "Um, not meaning to be annoying or anything, but could you hurry up, 'cos we're goning to be blown sky-high if we're still here in ten minutes."

"What?"

"I told you," Scott frowned.

"I thought we had longer." Virgil admitted, finally freeing Scott of the ropes. "Right now, let's go."

* * *

><p>Alan frowned up at his Thunderbird, wondering what the hell Gordon was playing at. Turning, he gathered up the remaining equipment and bundled it into '2. Two shadows emerged from the mines and he felt frustration fill him. They were making sure that no-one went in. Even him.<p>

"Evil," he began to mutter and then instantly recognised one of the two figures as they emerged into the light. That yellow sash was very distinctive.

"Virgil!" He yelled and bounded across to his brother. "You're okay!"

"Nice to see you too, sprout," Virgil grinned. The taller of the 'shadows' came into the light dragging the remains of the Mole, which hadn't been that badly damaged.

"Scott!" Alan felt annoyed that his voice seemed to go really high. _Geez, I'm turning into Tin-Tin!_

A loud roaring of engines could be heard and they all looked up to find the remaining brothers came running over to them.

"You're okay!" John gasped for air. "What? Oh let me off the Virge the Surge talk for moment. I'm fine."

"That's not what you said in '3." Gordon announced. "You said you'd thought it wouldn't be as painful if '2 landed on you."

Virgil narrowed his eyes, wondering if his Thunderbird had been insulted or not. Deciding to let John off, he turned back to Gordon.

"Go! All of you! There is another bomb threat!" A policeman yelled at them, clearing the last of the survivors away.

"It's not a threat either," Scott announced.

"No, and you should no seeing as you were sitting on it a few minutes ago," Virgil agreed, causing a chorus of _whats?_ and are you sure you're okay?.

"I'm fine but we need to go," Scott told them, heading over to '1. Virgil raised his eyebrows at him. "What?"

"Shoulder?"

"I don't fly using my left arm. I'm right-handed."

"You wouldn't listen to me anyway even if it was your right arm."

Scott grinned. "No, probably not."

Alan leapt into '3 and John slid into the co-pilot's seat. "Move." Alan told him.

"No."

"You are not co-piloting."

"Why not?" John whined.

"Because you're hurt. Go sit in '2. You don't have to do as much work with co-piloting. Gordon can help me."

"Gordon? Helping? In the same sentence?"

Gordon shoved him and he tumbled out the chair. "Hey!"

Gordon smirked at him as he sat down. "Sorry."

John gave him a final glare before going into '2.

"Thunderbird 3 to Thunderbirds 1 and 2, do you copy?"

"Communications are still down. We'll have to use the watches," Gordon told him. "Right, systems are green."

"Thunderbirds are go!" Scott announced through the watch.

At the same time, all three Thunderbirds rose into the air. Swerving past '2, Alan headed a couple of miles away from the dnager zone, heading after '1 with '2 close behind.

A massive boom came from behind them as the bomb went off. Silence.

"Everyone okay?" Virgil asked through the watch.

"Yep," Alan and Scott said at the same time.

Gordon sat back, silently thanking the skies above for their safety. His brothers were okay. _Thank you, Mum._

* * *

><p><strong><em>What did you think? Please review, and for once, I didn't leave you on a cliff-hanger. Aren't I kind? Lol. See on Saturday!<em>**

**_But what's happened to Jeff? And what are Brains, Penelope, Fermat, Tin-Tin and Parker going to do? And what about Thunderbird 4? (Yes, I will bring '4 into it. I feel sorry for Gordon otherwise.) Find out next time! *Grins*._**

**_Kat x._**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Here is the next chapter of Revenge! And I am three days early! OMG! *gaps* I am amazing. lol. :)**_

_**Thanks to Anna for beta-ing this for me! :)**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

><p>"You understand what we want you to do?"<p>

Jeff glared at the man opposite him. "Well, yes." He replied sarcastically. "You're expecting me to hand over everything to do with the Thunderbirds just so you can make your own International Rescue team."

"No."

Jeff frowned. "Huh?" He kept backing up slowly. There was a reason Brains had installed an escape route beneath his office. If only he could find the damn entrance. His back hit the wall and he clenched his fists, trying not curse.

"No," the man continued. "We want you to hand over the documents so we can get the Thunderbirds and make our own International Disaster. We will create disaster after disaster and ask for billions in order to stop. And then we will disappear. And you will be the cause of these disasters. And who would have thought it of the Thunderbirds?" He smirked as Jeff stared at him in disbelief. What he hadn't been expecting, however, was for his captive to suddenly, disappear. Literally.

"What? Where'd he go?" Punching the wall in frustration, he felt the plaster tremble slightly beneath his fingers. "Of course," he sneered. "A doorway."

* * *

><p>Jeff headed down the steps, running, and promptly tumbled head over heels. Rubbing his arm, which had taken most of his weight when he had landed, he turned on his flashlight.<p>

"Where the hell am I?" He wondered aloud. He certain he hadn't been in this part of the base before. But then again, everything always did look different in the dark. Blinking, he leaned forwards, pausing as something yellow gleamed in the light.

"Thunderbird 4." Of course. How obvious. The only thunderbird that could leave the base undetected.

"Thanks Brains," he whispered.

A loud crash came from the inky blackness that he had emerged from. Jeff frowned. Well it was no use staying at the base. Time to get moving.

Moving swiftly to the open hatch door of Thunderbird 4, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Firing up '4, he followed the emergency launching procedure. As the man came running down after him, he grinned to himself.

As 4 slid into the ocean, he chuckled to no one in particular:

"Thunderbirds are go."

* * *

><p>Wincing as his wounded shoulder was jolted slightly, Scott rolled Thunderbird 1 onto her side, dodging debris as it rained down upon the aircraft. Pushing '1 into a dive, till he was flying dangerously close to the ground, he wondered how Virgil and John were faring in '2. The green thunderbird wasn't meant for sharp manoeuvres!<p>

Finally flying '1 back up to cruising altitude, Scott contacted his brothers, worry making him feel sick. "Everyone okay?"

"Fine!" Came slightly over cheerful response. Glancing out the window, Scott stared at '2. The green thunderbird had taken a battering and Scott was amazed that his younger brothers were okay.

Suddenly feeling light-headed, he swung his thunderbird round, setting a direct course to Lady Penelope's mansion.

"Setting course for Lady Penelope's," Alan reported.

"F.A.B."

"VIRGIL!" Scott bolted upright.

_Huh? Was I falling asleep? Geez, Scott you're on duty still, don't forget!_

Something was obviously wrong in Thunderbird 2 about to turn around, he heard Virgil gasp:

"Oh my god! Johnny, you're right!"

"What's going on?"

_My thoughts entirely, Gordon_.

"We're picking up '4's signal! It's Dad!"

"Or those weirdos."

Scott gave a pointed look at the radio before realising he couldn't actually be seen, but Virgil broke in before he could open his mouth to speak.

"'4 must have been launched using emergency procedures. Now you tell me, who else that is left at Base would know that?"

"No one," Alan's voice sounded mysteriously quiet.

_Whoa, I feel dizzy. And...what am I meant to be doing again? Flying...hmm...huh? Did some one say something?_

"Scooter?" Virgil's anxious voice cut through the radio. "Thunderbird 1, come in."

_I think you ought to shut up now, Virge, cos Big Brother is really tired and..._

"Snap out of it!"

"That's my line," Scott mumbled, trying to smooth down his hair but not really having much luck. The sun shone directly into his eyes and he closed them for a brief second, only to have the roaring in his ears grow louder.

_Geez, I feel sick_.

"Scott, land, now."

"Uh, huh."

_Hang on, when did Virgil start ordering me around? What were we talking about again. Dad. And '4. Oh I don't know_.

"Scott Tracy. Land now." There was something in Gordon's tone that made him realise that his younger brother wasn't joking and suddenly feeling quite happy to oblige, he landed the thunderbird.

Leaning forwards, he rested his head on the controls in front of him. For a moment tere was silence, before the door burst open, and electronic voice cheerfully announced : unauthorised access.

"What?" He looked up, as Virgil gave the door a glare. The world grew blurry again, and Scott decided that the warmth of unconsciousness was a lot more preferable at the moment.

"Scott! Stay awake!"

Virgil's voice was lost to him as he sank into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Gordon stared at the radio. Maybe if he glared at it hard enough, it would spring into life and Scott would be saying he'd just felt a little dizzy for a moment.<p>

It didn't.

"Gords?"

"Yeah?" He turned his attention back to Alan who was looking at him.

"Do you think we should land? we've got about half a tank of fuel left. We can refuel at Lady P's but we don't know what's wrong with Scott."

Gordon blinked, and leaned forwards to peer out of the window. He could make out Virgil leaning over Scott in Thunderbird 1's cabin but he couldn't see how serious it was. As it was, they were wasting fuel. He had to make a decision.

"Land," he told his younger brother. Alan nodded, and gently landed the Thunderbird with practised ease next to Thunderbird 2.

Gordon swung himself out of the chair and slammed his hand down on the open door switch, ignoring Alan's protests of: "Careful, she's my Thunderbird!"

Stepping out into the cool air of the english country-side, he broke into a run, leaving Alan still shutting down his thunderbird. Scrambling into Thunderbird 1, he froze, staring at Virgil, who was trying to lift Scott out of the pilot's chair.

"He's unconscious?" Gordon gasped, but it came out as more of a question. Virgil raised his eyebrows at him

"Well what does it look like?" He sighed, clearly stressed out. With John with concussion and Scott unconcious, it looked like he was in charge.

Gordon sensed Virgil's silent apology, and moved forwards to help. Virgil paused, his common sense telling him that couldn't lift the field Commander by himself, but his worry for Gordon's back injury from so long ago, also fresh in his mind.

"I'm fine." Gordon muttered and shifted round to Virgil's other side.

"What the -"

"Language," Virgil warned Alan grimly.

"Sorry, sorry," the blond haired Tracy muttered. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"Head injury."

"How the hell did he get that?" Gordon frowned.

"Probabaly in the mines. He insisted he was fine, and I was just concerned about getting us both out of there before the whole place went sky-high," Virgil glanced down at his shoes. "Damn it - I should have double-checked."

"Virge, we got of there with a few seconds to spare, if that," John spoke from the doorway of Thunderbird 2. "A second kater, and we'd all have been killed."

Virgil met his gaze for a moment before looking away. "Alan, fly '1."

"But what about '3?" Alan protested.

"You've got the most experience out of you and Gordon in flying '1 okay? I'm certain Gordon is able to fly '3 without you holding his hand every single bloomin' moment!" Virgil snapped.

Silence fell. Alan stared at his older brother in shock.

"Okay," he murmured, barely audible and walked off.

Virgil stared after him, frozen, not really able to comprehend what he had just said. "Oh geez, Alan, I'm sorry! I didn't-" The doorway to '1 slammed shut and he stared at it.

"Virgil."

Gordon jumped, forgetting John was there for a moment. "Shall I?" He began to ask.

"Fly '3?" John finished for him. "Yes."

"Where're we heading?"

They all looked at Virgil. He glanced down at his radar system. "Sorry Dad," he whispered. Straightening up, he told Gordon: "Fly to the nearest hospital. It'll be on the maps."

Gordon nodded, heading back to '3. "Systems are green," He murmured to himself, repeating the actions he had done earlier, fleeing for his life from Tracy Island. He smiled grimly at the control panel. "'3 is go."

The red rocket rose into the air, '1 beside her. Gordon tried to look into '1's window, but Alan was determined not to look at him.

Great, Gordon thought bitterly. Scott's unconscious, Dad's in my Thunderbird, John's got concussion and Virgil and Allie aren't talking to each other. This should be fun. Not.

* * *

><p>"Yes, thank you sir." The nurse looked pointedly at him from over her brown spectacles. Virgil frowned at her.<p>

"You can go now," She told him, as politely as she could.

"But..." He began to protest, glancing from Scott to the Nurse desperately. He smiled at her hopefully.

"Sorry, only family are allowed."

"But I'm," Virgil caught himself just in time. By admitting he was Scott's brother, he would blow International Rescue's cover. He glanced down at his IR sash helplessly.

"But?" The nurse questioned.

Oh for god's sake, Virgil thought to himself. I need backup.

Gordon looked down at his watch face. Virgil's watch was transmitting a real-time view of the hospital.

"But I'm," Gordon winced in sympathy as Virgil stared helplessly at Scott and then back at his own uniform. Scott had changed in Thunderbird 1, as John had pointed out that the explosive powder from the bomb that had been tied to him might have got onto his clothes. So no-one knew he was IR.

Frowning, Gordon glanced down at himself. In the mad dash from Tracy Island, he hadn't changed to uniform. He was in casual clothes. An idea forming in his head, he stepped out of '3 and strode into the hospital.

"Hello."

* * *

><p>Virgil was about to admit his connection to Scott when Gordon strode through the doorway. Clutching the nurse's arm, he began to gasp urgently to her, "Excuse me, my brother was caught up in a mine collapse and I've been informed by International Rescue, that he has been brought here with an um..."<p>

Virgil, behind the nurse's back, mimed hitting his head with his hand.

"With a head injury," Gordon finished.

The nurse nodded. "Very well, Mr?"

"Tracy. My brother was being shown round for the day. We work at Tracy Industries. But please, call me Gordon."

"Come this way please."

As Gordon and Scott and the unfriendly nurse disappeared round the corner, Virgil gaped after them.

Who would have thought that Gordon was such a good actor?

Gordon winked at him, before turning round the corner. Virgil sank into one of the waiting chairs. It had been a long day, and it wasn't over yet...

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><p><strong><em>Review? Maybe? And who feels sorry for Virgil? I do! :( And will he and Alan make up? Find out next time! :)<em>**

**_Kat x._**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Look who it is! Yes, it's me, Kat, the evil person who has decided to be mean and leave you all with a cliffhanger. Aren't I nice? Lol._**

**_Well, I guess you're all waiting for the next chapter, so here you go. Just want to say thanks to Sunny7777 and Smish123 and Guest for your amazing reviews!_**

**_Here you go! _**

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><p>Alan sat in Thunderbird 3 and stared out at the outline of the Hospital on the horizon. He knew Virgil hadn't meant to snap at him: his older brother wasn't normally the one in charge, so he was bound to be stressed out, but he couldn't help but feel hurt that Virgil had taken it out on him.<p>

He hadn't even been going to ask if Gordon could fly '3 by himself. He trusted his partner in crime with his Thunderbird, hell, Gordon had flown the rocket many times in the past, so he thought Virgil had been rather unfair with jumping to conclusions. What he'd been going to ask, was which hospital he was meant to be flying to, as there were two in the area.

Damn, that brought his thoughts back to Scott. And he'd been trying to hard not to think of his elder brother's injuries. And then there was John, who had mild concussion, but was still able to think straight. After a rest for a couple of hours, he'd be fine.

Alan couldn't help it. He found his fingers straying near his watch, to contact John. Gordon was out of contact, for some weird reason, and he was NOT going to speak to Virgil. He refused.

He sighed, drawing a hand through his hair. He was going to have to talk to the medic in the end, he knew that, he just wanted to give Virgil time to cool off.

That wasn't true, and he knew it. He was just sulking, hurt by the argument. And the added pressure of having his father missing and having two of his brothers inured, oh, and one annoyed with him, he was just...

"What the-" Alan yanked back on the controls. A moment later, where he had been landing, a large black land rover pulled out of the bushes.

"Weird," he murmured. And then he saw the missile aimed right at him. And heading right for him. And getting rather close.

He pulled Thunderbird 1 up sharply, gaining altitude far quicker than was safe. Glancing out his window, he frowned. He was above the clouds. Time to use the "Fly" as he and Gordon had nicknamed the remote controlled camera that Scott had been trying out for Brains.

Peering at the footage the "Fly" was broadcasting to him, he realised with a jolt that the missile had never been meant to hit him. It was meant to distract him to get him out the way. And he'd fallen right into their trap.

And they were heading for the hospital.

He had to warn Virgil!

* * *

><p>In the cabin of Thunderbird 2, John blinked. He hadn't thought he'd fallen asleep, but clearly he had. Well at least his supposed concussion had gone.<p>

Yawning, he pulled himself out of the chair, wondering where the blanket that had been draped over him had come from.

Virgil, he thought to himself. Well, at least his immediate younger brother wouldn't have to deal with everything by himself now. John was ready to help him.

If he'd been on '5 or if Mobile Control had been salvageable from the explosion, then he could probably have been able to override the system and bring back the radio transmission.

No wonder there had been that explosion, he realised. It had been meant to take out Mobile Control.

And Alan, a little voice in his head announced. He ignored it.

Anyway, there had to be a reason their watches were working. So the watches didn't work on the same network as the radios. So where did they work from?

Of course. It was on Penelope's system. That was so damn obvious.

So if he contacted Penelope and rewired the radio while she was talking, when he activated the radio, it would automatically go onto her network.

He grinned to himself. "International Rescue, London. Calling International Rescue, London."

"John! Are you okay?"

"What the-" He hadn't been expecting to hear that voice! "Tin-Tin?"

"Yes." There was a small yelp over the radio and then:

"J-John? A-are you o-okay?"

He had never been so glad to hear that familiar stutter. "Brains. I'm fine. But..."

For the first time, he remembered what had happened. Scott...Virgil...Alan...the argument...Gordon flying '3. He stared at the radio, hating the fact that he wasn't able to speak to Brains face to face. And preferably without Fermat and Tin-Tin listening.

"John?"

Geez, the next time it'll be Parker talking! Are they all there?

"I'm still here Penelope," John muttered, connecting the wires in the radio, and cursing as a spark burnt his finger tip. "Keep talking," He ordered as he connected the last wire.

Holding his breath, he activated the radio.

Static. But then...

"John! We c-can see y-you!"

"And I can see you!" Fermat's excitement was catching.

"Our c-communications are b-back online!" Brains gasped. "John! Y-you've done it! You've d-done it!"

John, meanwhile was staring in horror as something that looked horribly like '1 plummeted from the sky.

"J-John?"

"Brains! Alan's in trouble!"

"John!"

"Alan?"

"What's happening?" Utterly confused, John stared bewildered as everyone started speaking at once until a horrified cry came through the radio:

"John! Come quickly."

The speaker was someone who didn't normally panic. And Virgil was definitely panicking.

"Johnny, please!"

He had to make a desiscion. He stared at 1 and then at the hospital and then Brains.

"John!" Alan was yelling.

And there was Brains trying to advise him.

And then there was Virgil, who was clearly panicking.

And there was another voice. John blinked, memories from earlier on '5 flooding back.

_"John - what do I do? I can't get through to Al-" The connection was lost and the screen went dead. Alarms blaring in his ears, John glanced round, trying to figure out how to get control back to his Thunderbird._

_"Thunderbird 3 to Thunderbird 5, requesting clearance for docking sequence."_

_"Negative - I don't have any control."_

_"I'm coming in anyway!"_

_"Gordon!"_

_He slammed down the air-duct, opening it just as a final alarm blared in his ears. Glancing up, he made to run towards his younger brother who know stood in the doorway, staring in horror at him._

_"What-" he didn't finish. As everything went dark, the last thing he heard was Gordon yelling:_

_"John! No!"_

John jolted back into reality.

"Johnny..." There was a cough and then a yelp of pain. "You...need to help...Virgil. They're coming for him."

"Gordon!" A gasp of horror came from Alan at the sound of pain in his brother's voice.

"W-what's going on?" Brains stammered, in confusion.

John leapt to his feet. Normally, up on '5 he didn't get much chance to join in with the rescues.

"Time to be a Thunderbird."

* * *

><p>Alan pulled up just in time, skimming the ground, and circled Thunderbird 2. Two jet black helicopters came zooming after him, and he spun '1 round gaining more altitude.<p>

The helicopters were still coming straight at him. Alan felt panic rising up inside him. In Thunderbird 3 he could pull off some crazy manoeuvres and fly with skill. He knew '3, '3 was his baby.

This wasn't his Thunderbird.

Alan was painfully aware of the fact. He wasn't able to fly '1 like Scott did. Damn it, he needed his older brother to be able to help him.

Now he was regretting not spending much time on the simulators like Jeff had always nagged him to.

As he swerved sharply, he found himself grinning, which was madness, given his current situation. But he couldn't help but be thankful that Gordon hadn't taken '1 instead of him.

There was only one thing he could do: land.

He circled, slowing down ten seconds before impact. And then landed.

For a moment he waited with bated breath. And then he heard the helicopters flying off.

Changing out of his IR uniform, he changed into causal clothes and sprinted over to '2. John glanced at him as he clambered into the green Thunderbird.

"Have you heard from Gordon or Virgil?" Alan asked.

John shook his head. "No. I'm going to check it out."

"Not like that." Alan pointed out.

John frowned at him. "What do you mean, not like that? What's wrong with me?"

Alan rolled his eyes. "You had '5's ceiling collapse on top of you. Don't you suppose that, just perhaps, you might have had a few cuts?"

John raised his eyebrows at him.

"Johnny, you have blood all over your uniform, they're going to think you're some sort of lunatic."

For the first time, John looked down at himself. "Oh...yeah."

* * *

><p>Virgil frowned at his reflection. He'd bought casual clothes and had changed so that no one could see he was IR. Unless the nurse came back. That would be awkward...because she would recognise him and have him arrested as some sort of stalker.<p>

Trying hard not yawn, he crossed to the café and ordered a coffee for Gordon. He wasn't thirsty, and Gordon would refuse to rest so, he would need something to give him energy.

"Excuse me," a pretty waitress smiled shyly at him "Um, I was wondering. Have I seen you somewhere?"

"Um..." He glanced around, wondering where she would have seen him before. She hadn't seen him earlier...Unless...oh no...

"I was caught up in an accident at a school a few months ago, I think I saw you there."

Virgil silently willed her to stop talking and to just give him the coffee.

The waitress frowned. "Maybe you were one of the firemen. Are you with the rescue services?"

"Yes, yes, I'm certainly with the rescue services," he agreed hastily. If only you knew, he thought, trying not to laugh.

"Oh well, thanks. Nice talking to you." She handed him the drink and he practically sprinted round the corner.

That was when he realised he had a problem.

Where actually were Gordon and Scott?

Oh. He grinned sheepishly down at the floor. Oh, that was stupid. He reached for his watch.

"Hey, Gordon. Where are you?"

He double checked the corridor, to find it deserted. So he was alone. Good.

"Gordon? Come in."

"I'm in Room 5."

"Okay." Jogging down the corridor, he checked the room numbers. Glancing through the window of Room 5, he stumbled backwards, shock making him instinctively reach for his watch.

"John, come quickly!"

His older brother wasn't replying.

"Johnny, please!"

Okay, don't panic, he told himself sternly. Although on the other hand, he thought as he opened door and took in the sight of Gordon putting himself between a gun and Scott, who was now conscious, and trying to stop Gordon protecting him, but not having much luck, panic.

"What's going on?" He gasped. And then time stopped for a moment.

Everything happened at once.

The door burst open and John and Alan dashing in.

Three gunshots ran out. One shattered the window, sending glass showering over Alan, whom John shoved to the floor.

Scott shoved Gordon to the side, trying to protect from line of fire and went to move when another man on the other side of the room pulled the trigger on his gun.

"Scott!" Alan yelled in horror as his brother collapsed to the ground with a groan.

Gordon stood frozen for a moment and as the men pointed the gun directly at him, Virgil launched himself through the air, just as the gun went off.

For a moment, he stared dumbly down at his chest unable to comprehend he'd just been shot.

He heard Gordon yell out and then pain shot through him. He stumbled backwards and collapsed into someone's arms. Somewhere in his mind, he was aware that it was John.

"No!" Alan was shouting in horror as he stared at his brother.

"Virgil! Come on, stay awake! Please!" John was yelling in his ears.

"John!"

Virgil looked up, with blurred vision, to see Alan cornered and Gordon pulling out his IR gun. Scott, who clearly hadn't been knocked out immediately when he'd been shot, stumbled forwards throwing himself on top of Alan. His terrified younger brother stared at the gun being pointed at him.

Darkness entered Virgil's vision. He had a daft idea that he wasn't going to be flying '2 for a while. John was still trying to keep him awake.

Gordon was pointing his gun directly at the two men. "Go," he murmured, quietly.

"Put that down, son," one of men announced.

"Oh, who cares? We're going anyway." The other muttered climbing out the window.

The remaining man smirked at Gordon, who tightened his hold on the gun. "Put that down, then I'll go."

"Why should I?" Gordon sounded calm but he was tense.

"Because of this," The man announced.

As Virgil sank closer to unconsciousness, fear raced though him, as he stared at the man.

"No. Please no." John was pleading with him. "Look, I don't know what you want, but leave him alone."

Virgil looked at where the gun was pointing and blinked, realising who John was asking not be shot.

The gun had been pointing at Alan, but Scott had thrown himself in front of him, so that Alan was safe, but now the gun was pressed to Scott's chest. Scott himself, who was loosing blood from the gunshot which had hit his shoulder, was trying to pretend he wasn't afraid, but Virgil knew his brother too well for that to work.

"Please," John murmured.

There was a loud clatter as Gordon's gun fell to the floor. He kicked it away, towards John. "Now let him go." The aquanaut demanded.

"Oh, you really believed me?" The man gave a cruel laugh. "That's really quite amusing."

Gordon gave a cry, realising what the man was about to do. Launching himself towards Scott, he tried to knock the gun out the guy's hands, but it was too late.

The gun went off.

Virgil sank into unconsciousness.

"No!" The three remaining Tracys yelled at the same time.

John lowered Virgil to the floor as Gordon sank to the floor next to Scott.

"Sorry," Gordon whispered to his un-moving brother. "Oh, Scotty, I'm so sorry..."

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><p><em><strong>Okay...I'm going to go now...*dashes off to find a hiding place*<strong>_

_**Sorry! That genuinely wasn't my idea! Looks at a certain friend... *ducks as a object of unknown origins comes sailing out the shadows***_

_**If it's any comfort, I am feeling really sorry for Virgil and Scott too. And Gordon, who appears to be blaming himself. And John, for having all this pressure. And Alan, because he never got the chance to apologise to Virgil. And...well basically everyone! **_

_**Well, I will be back. Promise. This ain't the end. *gives an uncertain grin* No, really!**_

_**See you guys! Oh and you know what I'm going to say now, right?**_

_**REVIEW! Even if it's just about how furious you all are at me for letting Scott and Virgil get shot! *gives evil laugh***_

_**It would make me VERY happy!**_

_**Thanks!**_

_**Love ya!**_

_**Kat x.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Hello! Greetings from the crazy world of Kat! No, just another hilarious day at school! Oh aren't friends wonderful! **_

_**Anyway, I meant to update earlier, but I had a bit of writers block, but then I felt guilty reading all of your wonderful reviews, so I thought, hmm, let's read your stories. And your fantastic stories got me back in the mood for writing! **_

_**So here you go. Oh and warning: Gordon gets a bit...upset. **_

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><p>Jeff tried the radio again. None of his boys were picking up, although he knew that he had a signal. Peering out of '4's window at the murky depths of the ocean, he shuddered, wondering what it was that Gordon found so wonderful about the sea. As far as Jeff was concerned, space beat the ocean any day.<p>

A warning light flashed up on the control panel, alerting him to an in-coming call. Maybe one of them had finally figured out who it was that was in '4. Although, really, he thought to himself, they should have figured that out a while ago.

"Thunderbird 4 from International Rescue, London. Come in please."

The familiar English accent was a surprise to Jeff, and he sat up straight in his seat as he connected the call. A moment later, he found himself looking into the anxious face of Penelope.

"Penny!" He cried. Taking a moment to calm himself down, he added: "Are the boys okay?"

Penelope sipped her tea. "I don't know Jeff. Parker is on his way to pick you up. Head for my private harbour. You can expect FAB1 to be with you in," she paused, and someone shoved their watch in front of her face. She nodded, and the watch disappeared again. "In 5 minutes." She smiled at someone off screen. "Yes, yes, certainly Brains."

"Brains? Are you there?" Jeff blinked in surprise as the genius appeared on the screen.

"Mr T-tracy? A-are you okay?"

Jeff nodded. "I can't get in contact with any of the others though. Are the systems only working for '4 and you?"

Brains frowned, pushing his specs further up his nose. "Uh, no, Mr Tracy, y-you should be able to c-contact them."

"That means they're just not picking up," Jeff sighed, updating Thunderbird '4's course so that she was heading towards Penny's private harbour. He leaned back in the chair and stretched, trying not to panic. "Okay, thanks Brains. Hang on, how are the radios working? The island got shut down!"

"John set it up a-again, Mr Tracy."

John. Only he would figure out a way to get their systems back online without being on Tracy Island. The man had been a genius when it came to computers even as a kid, hacking into his older brother's computer and setting a different screensaver to annoy him. Jeff grinned at the memory, remembering the outraged look on Scott's face when he realised John had found out his password.

"Mr Tracy?"

"Yes Brains?"

"You, uh, appear to a-approaching the Harbour at Top Speed."

Realising he had been lost in memories for longer than he'd thought, Jeff eased '4 back down to a much slower pace. He grinned - Gordon would be furious if he damaged '4 in any way.

"Jeff, you need to take '4 down the passageway in the bottom of the cliff. It will take '4 to a secret hanger of mine."

"Sure thing, Penny." Turning '4, he entered the tunnel. Blinking as bright lights suddenly lit up the cabin, he frowned as he entered a wide cavernous space. That was emptying of all water. '4 stopped and the door opened.

"Mr Tracy?"

Jeff stood up, wincing as his muscles protested from being forced to move after being in a cramped space for so long. He made a mental note to ask Gordon how the hell he managed to cope.

"Hi Parker," he shook the man's hand and followed him up some steps, into the bright sunlight. Shielding his eyes with his hand, he glanced round, spotting something very pink. Personally, Jeff didn't understand how Parker managed to drive round in such a pink car. He, himself, would have died of embarrasment a long time ago.

* * *

><p>John was currently hoping he was going to wake up at any second and that this was all some horrible dream. He couldn't really be here. This wasn't meant to have happened! He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to block everything out. The head-ache had returned with a vengeance and the pounding in his head made him want to just go to bed and sleep. Until morning. Or at least until the headache grew better.<p>

"Johnny?"

A cautious voice made him open his eyes. Alan was trying to get to his feet, his hand resting on Scott's shoulder. He was gazing worriedly at Gordon, who was utterly silent. Which, for Gordon, was not a good sign.

John blinked, trying to clear his mind. Fighting the panic that was rising up inside him, he scrambled across to Gordon, and pulled him away, over to the window.

"Gordon?"

His younger brother stared out of the window, motionless. John shook him by the shoulders, hating himself for having to be so rough. But he had to get the aquanaut to speak.

"Gordo. Come on, speak to me." He sighed. "I can't help you if you won't speak to me."

"Who says I need help? Virgil and Scott are the ones that need help. They're ones that got shot because of me." Gordon closed his eyes, his grip on the window-sill tightening. He turned his back on John, signalling that he wanted to be left alone.

That might have worked well when they were kids, in Kansas, but John wasn't going to fall for it now. He moved forwards, going to pull Gordon back from the window ledge, before he cut his hands open on the splintered glass that lay there, when Alan's worried voice spoke up.

"John! Something's wrong with Scott!"

John spun round on the spot, feeling torn. Scott and Virgil needed him, but so did Gordon.

"Gordo, they wouldn't blame you. Neither do Alan and I. So please..." He paused, wondering whether to say the next line or not. He decided to, sensing he was going to regret it later on. "Pull yourself together. We need you right now, okay?"

"For what? For me to mess up again?"

John pulled him into a hug. "You didn't mess up, fish. Geez, either way, that lunatic was going to shoot Scooter."

Gordon glanced up at him. "If I'd got there faster..."

"John!" Alan sounded panicked.

John shoved Gordon in the basic direction of Virgil. "Go keep an eye on Virge for me."

Gordon gave a brief nod, fighting back tears. Gown men do not cry, he thought to himself angrily.

Only hoping that Gordon would do what he was told, John dashed over to Alan, who was leaning over Scott, anxiously. Looking up as his older brother came running over he moved to the side, making room for John.

Collapsing onto the floor, landing in an ungraceful heap, John shoved his hand into the cupboards behind him, searching for a first-aid kit. This was a hospital for crying out loud, there had to be one somewhere.

After discovering one, he opened it, and let out a curse stamping on it, after finding it empty, sending it flying across the room. Now helpless to do anything, he stared down at Scott.

Come on, Scooter," he muttered, feeling his panic level rising. Unable to help himself, he glanced over at Virgil, trying to remember what they'd all been taught. And what Virgil knew better then them all.

"Damn, damn, damn," he gazed round the room helplessly. There had to be something!

The logical thing to do was to send Alan to get help, but his instincts were yelling at him not to do that, as he had no idea where the guys with the guns were. Alan had his IR gun but so did Gordon, and that had ended...he swallowed, having found his search fruitless.

"John! He's not breathing!" Alan yelped. John dropped to the floor, panicking, when they both looked up at the sound of Gordon's watch alerting him to an in-coming call.

"Brains?"

Gordon paled, and he turned back to Virgil. "He'd better be here soon," he murmured into the watch.

"w-what's happened?"

"We...we..." Gordon slipped the watch off and threw it, hard as he could against the wall, leaving Alan staring at him in shock.

John, desperately trying to recall what to do, officially panicked. "Please breath, Scooter," he whispered frantically when the door burst open and a shocked, yet utterly familiar voice gasped:

"What the hell happened?"

John felt relief rush through him. "Dad!" He croaked. "Help me. Scott's stopped breathing and there's no bloomin' medical kit in this blasted room and..."

He broke off as he was shoved to the side. Jeff dropped to the floor beside his eldest son and John blinked as someone pulled him into a firm hug.

"Hey Allie," he murmured. Realising the teenager was trembling, he turned to look down at Alan. "Come on Sprout," he whispered. "Dad's here and Penny will be here soon with Brains, Fermat and Tin-Tin, and then...oh geez, Al, don't cry."

"Virge..." His younger brother murmured. John frowned, and then realised what the blond was talking about.

"Oh shit," He cried and flung himself, literally, across the room and crashed into Gordon. Alan followed him and closed his eyes.

"I never apologised," he murmured.

Gordon and John glanced up.

Silently cursing himself for remembering the last time Alan had spoken to Virgil, he had been furious with the medic, John bit his lip. Oh god...how did he deal with this?

Scott wasn't breathing, he hadn't figured out if his father was okay, Gordon was having some sort of mental break-down and then Alan was hating himself for yelling at Virgil. And then for Virge to have been shot, without the two apologising to each other...

"Okay..." he thought aloud. "Gordon, Alan, go wait by the door. And Gordo, get your watch back and put it back on. seriously squirt, leaving it off? Bad idea..." He gave a meaningful cough as neither moved. After a moment, Gordon scrambled to his feet, putting an arm round Alan.

John watched them go. The two were close, so maybe making sure Allie was okay would take Gordon's mind off the self-blaming thing he had going on.

"John..." He glanced at Jeff. His father was motioning to the doorway, where Brains had appeared.

"Hi Brains," John greeted him tiredly, wiping a hand across his forehead, smearing blood across his face. He leaned forwards, still trying to figure out exactly where Virgil had been shot. Where was the blood coming from?

Brains sat down beside him. "We need to h-hurry up," he told John. John nodded, feeling guilt rush through him. He'd been so concerned with trying to keep Scott breathing, that he had neglected Virgil. Now, he was realising how much blood his younger brother had lost in such a short space of time.

Suddenly the room was filled with doctors and nurses and John felt himself pulled away from Virgil and shoved roughly to the side. Realising he had lost sight of his family he searched around desperately, but he could only see the white jackets of the doctors.

A furious yell filled the room. "Leave him alone you idiot!"

John ran towards the sound of Gordon's voice. He was going to have to get them into '2...oh damn, the Thunderbirds!

He skidded to a halt to see a young doctor backing away, clutching at his face, with blood dripping through his fingers. "You've broken my nose!" The doctor gasped.

Gordon glared at him, one arm wrapped firmly round Alan's shoulders. "Well what the hell were you bloomin' doing?"

The doctor tried to meet Gordon's gaze, but had to look away. John couldn't help but grin. It wasn't often that Gordon's 'smother-hen' instincts came into use, but when they did, it was only the very brave that tried to argue with him.

"Your, um, friend-"

"Brother," Gordon told him, coldly.

"Brother. Well your brother has blood all over his hands. There must be some very deep gashes-"

"It's not mine."

The doctor drew back. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said," Alan said with exaggerated patience. "That the blood on my hands, isn't mine." He nodded sadly over to where doctors were bustling around Scott and Virgil. "It's my brothers'."

The doctor, still clutching at his nose, gave a final glare at Gordon. "I'll be complaining about you," he told Gordon.

"Just you try, you looser," Alan growled. Literally. The doctor paused.

"May I suggest you go now sir?" John muttered. He gave the man a pointed look and the frightened doctor nodded.

"John!" Alan motioned to his watch which was flashing. Lowering his voice, conscious of the doctors around them, he added: "There's someone in'3!"

At the same time someone yelled: "The thunderbirds are here!"

John stuck his head out the window. "Oh shit..."

"Guys?" Gordon was frowning at his watch.

"Okay. Let's go." John gave the order and ignoring Jeff's angry shout, they ran for the Thunderbirds, Fermat and Tin-Tin joining them.

"Thunderbirds are go," John yelled into the radios. "I hope..."

Blinking, he found himself waiting for the normal call from '1 that he usually got from Scott announcing them clear for take-off. Grimacing, he realised he was going to have to be Field Commander.

Vigil and Scott...

"Thunderbird 2 from Thunderbird 1, are we clear for take-off?" Alan and Fermat called through on the radio.

Glancing at Gordon who gave him the thumbs up and then at Tin-Tin who was checking the system, he announced:

"FAB."

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><p><strong><em>Well...um, in my defence, I wasn't actually planning for '3 to be stolen. it just sort of...happened. *grins* <em>**

**_See you next time. Review? Please?_**

**_Kat x._**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Greetings - I am back! Sooooooo sorry for not updating sooner, real-life decided to surround me for a while. But now I am back! And thanks for your wonderful reviews by the way! *waves at reviewers*_**

**_Well, I won't keep you any longer! Everyone comfortable? I am *grabs fluffy pillow*. Enjoy!_**

* * *

><p>Drifting to conciousness was a painful business, he decided. It was much nicer in the warm darkness that was<em>un<em>consciousness. Something bright was shining directly into his eyes, and he winced, pulling back. The darkness threatened to overwhelm him again.

Actually - what had happened?

He'd been in '1 on a rescue, obviously. And then...oh.

He tried to sit up, only to feel a sharp pain explode in his chest.

"Sit down, please, sonny." The voice was kind, but Scott decided there was something about the person that he didn't like. Where were his brothers anyway...oh shit, now he remembered! Virgil had been shot as well - and was Alan okay? And what about John and Gordon?

There was an angry shout from the other side of the room, and then something flashed.

Scott blinked, to discover that made everything more painful. Oh, geez, he was certain he'd feel better if '2 had squashed him! At least...oh he couldn't be bothered to think about that. It hadn't happened, so there.

Now, he decided, he understood, why his brothers adamantly refused to go to hospital, preferring to wait for what was sometimes hours before they returned to base in Thunderbird 2.

Scott decided he preferred '2's sickbay.

_Wow,_ he thought to himself, _I really am ill. I mean, I never agree to go in '2's sickbay._ Drifting closer towards the inviting darkness, he listened absent-mindedly to the doctors' conversation.

"Really?"

"Yeah, god only knows what they're doing. Apparently, there was one round here earlier."

"I wasn't aware of any rescues in the area?"

"No, neither was I! But, if you look out that window, you'll see that there's some red, blue and silver rocket in the sky."

'_1 is not just some rocket,_ Scott thought angrily. _Wait - what? Why are '1 and '2 still in the area?_

"Jesus - you're right as well. Looks as if they're after the red rocket."

"Thought they were all part of the same organisation?"

"God knows. Maybe it's practise?"

"What for?"

"I dunno. I doubt they'd do it over a inhabited area though, in case something went wrong."

_They're chasing '3? What the hell?_ Scott fought against the darkness, but it overwhelmed him.

What the hell is going on?

* * *

><p>"Thunderbird 1 from Thunderbird 2, how are you reading me?"<p>

"Strength Five."

"Good." John allowed himself to finally believe that he really had fixed the radio problem. "Have you got a visual on '3 yet?"

"No. Wait...yes, Fermat has."

"Okay, chase it."

"What?" Gordon stared at him. "What good is that going to do? They're not going to land, and you're mad if you think for a moment we can shoot it down!"

"I know," John sighed, and sat back in his seat. "But what else can I do? '1 has got the best chance of keeping '3 in sight - they must be about the same speed?"

"Ask Alan," Tin-Tin suggested. "He'd know everything about '3 and he's in '1, so you may as well."

John nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Okay, Alan - what's '3's top speed?"

"You know you had the radio on the whole time so that I could hear that entire conversation?"

"Whatever. What's the-"

"Speed? Well if I ask for clearance to fly side by side with '3, would that answer your question?"

"Yes. You have clearance as well, by the way."

"F.A.B."

"Johnny?"

"Huh?"

Gordon grinned. "You were miles away! Shall I put '2 to maximum speed?"

"F.A.B."

The green Thunderbird sped up.

"Um...John, I have a storm warning." Tin-Tin told him.

"That shouldn't affect us," Gordon frowned. "'2's been through a lot worse."

"Then why is it showing up on the weather radar?" John questioned him. Gordon shrugged, and looked away, clearly embarrassed. "How bad is it?"

"You might want to fly above the clouds, but that's only because you'll be using more engine power and there are quite a few tall buildings in the area." Tin-Tin reported. She frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "Or, on second thoughts, you could divert from your current flight plan."

"No, we'll go above the clouds. It'll get us there quicker anyway." He pointed '2's nose towards the skies above and the Thunderbird emerged out into the clear air. Bright sunlight flooded the cabin, blinding them for a moment.

"Geez, that's bright!" He muttered.

Gordon blinked, shielding his eyes from the sun. The radio came to life, with a crackle of static.

"Thunderbird 2 from Thunderbird 1, we're under attack!"

"What?" Gordon gasped, leaping for the radio. "Who from?"

"From little green aliens in a UFO," Alan replied sarcastically. "From '3, you idiot!"

"They're firing on you?"

"Yes." Alan sounded distracted. "Huh?"

"We have to dive!" Fermat yelled.

"F.A.B."

"Attention - missiles. Impact imminent."

John jumped out of his seat as the warning blared through the cabin. How many sirens had he heard today? Must be about 5, by now...

"I have a visual!" Tin-Tin shouted. Gordon leant over her, trying to see the missile.

"We have to shoot it out the sky!" He told John.

John stared at him in disbelief. "Are you crazy? That'll never work."

"Try doing fancy manoeuvres in this big green bug! It's impossible!"

John glared at him. "Oh really?" He kicked Gordon back down into his seat and swung '2 onto her side, skimming past the missile.

"There's another one!" Tin-Tin warned.

"F.A.B." Gaining altitude, he couldn't help grinning slightly. When was the last time he'd flown like this? He knew, when Virgil and Scott were alone in their Thunderbirds, they did crazy acrobatics in the air, and Alan had done some pretty strange manoeuvres in '3. Even Gordon had done some mad things in '4. But it was impossible to do anything in '5. Unless he wanted to kill himself. Which he didn't.

"That's not a missile! And it's not heading for us!" Gordon yelled, realising what the object was a fraction of a second too late. The object was a cylinder but it was some sort of bomb.

One moment, John was in the chair, trying to gain altitude, far quicker than was actually possible and then the next moment, he was flying through the air, and then he smashed into the wall.

There was a blinding flash of light, and he blinked. Oh shit - he couldn't see. Fighting against the fear, he reached out, trying to grab something, anything, to stop himself sliding straight into the control panel.

His fingers closed round something, and he gathered it was probably a door handle or something. Oh well - at least he could stand upright.

"Spoke too soon," he muttered, as he collapsed onto the ground again. He closed his eyes once more and then opened them again. Oh good - he could see! Pausing, just in time to stop a childish squeak of excitement escaping him at being able to see again, he spotted the ground. Which was coming very close. He scrambled for the chair, realising he wasn't going to reach it in time. Hi vision blurred, and he tried to blink again, to clear it.

Gathering his strength, he leapt for the controls, at the same time as Tin-Tin. Another explosion rocked the Thunderbird, and they were thrown to the ceiling as Thunderbird 2 rolled upside down, still in a steep dive.

"Prepare for impact!" He yelled at Tin-Tin, just as someone/something launched them-self at the controls, yanking at them, and pulling the green Thunderbird out of her dive, aiming for the skies, and flying on her side, dodging smaller explosions and then aiming straight for a clear patch of sky, visible between pitch black clouds, swirling round.

"Tornado!"

Gordon, John realised, (why hadn't he figured that out earlier?) shrugged and continued flying, at the last minute, flipping '2 into a position that almost made her stall, and then putting on top speed, practically frying the engines.

"Sunlight! I love sunlight!" He grinned as they emerged into clear skies and Gordon straightened out the Thunderbird's flight path.

"Wow," The aquanaut murmured, and then rested his head on his arms. "Just wow. That's not something I want to attempt everyday."

John, finally managing to rid himself of the dizzy feeling, clambered into the seat next to him, and offering Tin-Tin his hand. She flashed him a grateful; glance as she slid into the third seat.

"Well..." John exclaimed. "Awesome flying, bro."

Gordon grinned. "I know right? But I think I'll leave it to Scooter, Virge and the Sprout next time." He high-fived John, and frowned at the radar. He laughed. "Alan's got the right idea."

"Huh?" John, leaned forwards and peered at the radar. There was no sign of '1 on there. "Has he crashed?" He gasped, in horror.

Gordon gave him a concerned glance. "How many times have you hit your head today?" He pretended to check John was okay, putting on a mock concerned expression. John knocked his hand away, secretly glad to have the old Gordon back. It was good to have the Thunderbird 4 pilot making jokes again.

"No, I settled for being thrown through the air instead," he joked. "No, I'm guessing he's turned off the GPS?"

Gordon nodded, adjusting '2's course slightly. "On course to I.R. Thunderbird 1."

"F.A.B. Thunderbird 2."

Gordon grinned. "Well...they're okay."

"And we're good."

"So I guess...Thunderbirds are go again!"

Unable to help himself, Gordon spun '2 upside down again and then back up the right way again. John let out a loud whoop and Tin-Tin shook her head in mock esaperation.

"It's meant to be Gordon who's the five-year-old, not you, John!"

"Ah, well,you know, being thrown the air for about the...third time today, has that maddening effect on people!"

"You've been infected with the Gordon-Disease," Fermat laughed through the radio. "And so have I!"

"What do you mean?" A cautious question came from Alan. Fermat gave an evil chuckle. A moment later, an outraged cry came from Alan.

"Fermat!"

"What?"

"I'm...I'm..."

"You're what?"

"I'm pink!" Alan gave an outraged cry.

"I know, I was the one who threw paint over you!"

"John!" A yell of happiness came from Tin-Tin. She held up her watch, pointing to Penelope who was speaking.

"Ah, John, dear, I thought you would like to know that Scott and Virgil are going to be okay. They're unconscious, but the doctors say that they will make a full recovery."

Gordon whooped, and spun '2 upside down again.

"Stop doing that - you're going to stall!" Tin-Tin snapped, but she was grinning.

"Thunderbirds are go!" Gordon announced. "Ready Alan?"

"F.A.B."

"What?" John, Tin-Tin and Fermat asked at the same time. Gordon winked at them, and down in '1, Alan grinned evilly at Fermat.

Gordon put '2 at top-speed. Loosing altitude so that wisps of cloud rose up around '2, he leaned towards the radio.

"Bug in position."

"Virge won't be happy to hear you calling '2 that," John chuckled.

"Who cares, space-case?" Gordon gave a care-free shrug.

"What did you call me?" John growled.

"Space-case," Gordon replied cheerfully, unaware he'd just signed his death-sentence. John leaned forwards to annoy his brother when '1 came spiralling into view. Alan did loop-the-loop before flying side-by-side with '2.

"Hi!" Alan yelled through the radio. Unfortunately, the radio was on speaker, and Alan's yell was magnified.

"Oops, sorry," Gordon grinned wickedly. "I must have forgotten to turn that down!"

"Yeah, right," John ruffled Gordon's hair. "You'd planned that, fish."

Gordon shrugged and saluted Alan. At the same time, the two thunderbirds gained altitude before diving and the leveling out, whilst '1 spiralled round '2 twice before flying beside them again.

"Hang on," John announced. "What about '3?"

"If you can somehow get into the systems, then I can fly it from base."

"But what about the-oh." Gordon started laughing as John trailed off.

"I think I know my own access codes, Johnny."

"Yeah, you know everyone else' as well!" Gordon announced. "What? He does. I helped him."

"God help us, the terrible two know all the access codes," John shook his head in mock despair. "We're doomed."

"Approaching Tracy Island." Tin-Tin announced. She glanced at Gordon who was slowing down and getting ready for landing. "Um...not meaning to sound stupid, but shouldn't we check...to see if anyone's there?"

"Everyone would have gone after Dad," Alan replied.

"Yeah...I guess..." Tin-Tin still looked uneasy.

"Drop me off," John told Gordon.

"What?" Gordon stared at him.

"Just in case. And if you're right, and everyone's left, then why would I be in any danger?"

Gordon frowned, and shifted in his chair. "But..."

John was heading for the pod. "I'll be fine!" He yelled over his shoulder.

* * *

><p>As John stepped into the sunlight, he frowned. It was strange seeing Tracy Island deserted, as it was usually so noisy. He strolled through the rooms, checking the hangers, and stopped, seeing the empty Pod 4. Where was '4? He'd ask Dad later.<p>

"Tracy Island is free of any intruders. I'm taking control, so wait for a moment, and I'll have '2's hanger open and ready for you." He paused. "Same goes for '1."

"F.A.B."

He put his hand on the finger-print recognition system, trying to remember when he'd last done this. Must have during training, he decided. "Okay, '1, you are clear for landing. Standby, Thunderbird 2."

He reached out for the correct button, when he remembered something. "Gordon, what's Virgil's access codes?"

"Why do you need them?"

"To be able to open '2's hanger."

"Thought you could do that anyway?"

"If I was Dad, or Brains, or even Scott then yes, but we can't."

"Why can they?"

"Well, Brains can, because he designed it, Dad because he's in charge and Scott because he's field commander. Duh."

"Okay. Um...well I might have been exaggerating when I said I knew all of the access codes."

"I know it," John glanced up as Alan and Fermat jogged into the room. Fermat motioned towards the access codes. "I know it," he repeated. As John moved over to let him type it in, Alan stared at his friend in amazement.

"How do you know that? Virge changed them all!"

"Dad," Fermat replied without looking up.

"Ah."

"Okay, that's done."

"Thanks, Fermat," John opened the hanger doors. "Okay, Thunderbird 2, you are clear for landing."

"Starting final approach,"

John tapped his foot impatiently until Alan smacked his knee with a rolled up newspaper that lay on the table.

"What?"

"It's annoying," Alan muttered.

"Good job, you're not stuck up on '5 with me then," John grinned. "I do it all the time. You'd go crazy."

"Thunderbird '2 down."

"F.A.B."

"Right, ready to take control of '3 again, Alan?"

Alan clenched his fists.

"I want to throw them off my Thunderbird and never let them get their filthy hands near her again."

"Oh, what pleasant thoughts," Gordon announced. "And when we have women present. Tut, tut, Alan!"

Tin-Tin and Alan glared at him and he shrugged, heading outside.

"Where're you going?" John called after him.

"Checking if the pool's okay!" The reply came back accompanied with a splash.

John shook his head. "Only Gordo would do that."

"Right - let's get '3 back."

* * *

><p><strong><em>See - I promised I would be kind! And I was *smiles*. Sorry about the bit about Alan and Gordon showing off in Thunderbirds 2 and 1. I was in a flying mood - I've persuaded my Grandma that my dream job of being a pilot, is actually a good job! I think she took it okay *fingers crossed* but I don't know...<em>**

**_So yeah. Sorry once again, for not updating sooner. But, hopefully, this week is going to be great (stuff going at High-School) so I'll be in a very good mood and update earlier. Or I might be in a bad mood and update anyway, leaving you on an evil cliffie! Nah - I'm not that mean...:)_**

**_Review?_**

**_Kat x._**


	11. Chapter 11

**_Um...sorry? *comes crawling out from under the bed*. I have now finished hibernating! Lol. Nah, actually I was just too busy juggling High-School, chores, looking after the house, (My Parents aren't well at the moment) which evolves me getting to bed at about midnight each night. At least I'm used to little sleep now? _**

**_But anyway. I stayed up last night until 1am writing this, because I finally got time. So enjoy! I am planning to update again soon!_**

**_Enjoy!_**

* * *

><p>"Well," John announced. "Are we in?"<p>

At once, a newspaper came flying out of mid air, smacking him in the face. "Hey," he muttered crossly. "I was only asking."

"John," Alan muttered, typing in the access codes for '3 on the computers. "Do me a favour?"

"Yeah, sure!" Finally ready to be of assistance, he jumped to his feet. "What do you need?"

"For you to shut up and stop asking me pointless questions."

"Of course...oh." Alan's words sunk in. Annoyed, John sat back in the chair and started tapping again. Alan gave him a death glare, and he hastily stopped.

"Jo-hn!" Gordon dragged his name into two syllables. "I need some help!"

He shot Alan a pleading look, but the youngest Tracy smirked at him, and went back to trying to regain control of '3.

"John!" The shout was more urgent, and tinged with annoyance.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. Geez, man, what have you done? Strung yourself upside down in a tree or something?" He called back, heading outside. Stopping, he frowned. The pool was deserted and the deck was free of wet foot-prints.

"John!"

He turned, searching for the owner of the voice. "Where the hell are you, Gordon?"

"Um...in a tree..."

"What the hell are you doing in a tree?"

"Watching the swimming-pool?" Gordon suggested. "Okay, I was thinking,"

"Oh god, don't do that! I don't want to die yet!" Gordon glared at him, and for a moment, John thought he was going to end up with another newspaper in his face. Why did people keep doing that, anyway?

"Well, anyway. You've realised that we've only got one Thunderbird?"

"What?" John stared at him, genuinely concerned that his younger brother might have concussion or something. "We've got '2 and '1."

"You think '1 is flyable?"

"She flew pretty well earlier," John pointed out.

"Yeah, but then she hadn't been flying through a storm and doing crazy manoeuvres."

"And who's fault was the crazy manoeuvres?"

"I meant avoiding missiles and god knows what else," Gordon sighed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

John sat down on one of the deck-chairs. Gordon had a point. '1 could be fixed within 24 hours if they had Brains with them, as Brains knew which part needing repairing and how to fix it. But Brains was with Penelope.

"We need Brains," he groaned.

They both stopped and looked at each other. "Fermat!"

* * *

><p>Jeff was tired. Okay, scrap that, he felt like shit. He hadn't slept in 24 hours now, and the stress was getting to him.<p>

"Why don't you come back to my Mansion and rest?" Penelope suggested.

"No, I need to be here in case one of them wakes up."

"But they are going to be fine."

"I'm not leaving."

Penelope stood up. "I hope you are not going to be tiresome Jeff?"

Jeff frowned at her. "What does that mean?"

Penelope smiled at him. "You will leave."

"No," Jeff replied. He sat back in the chair, feeling remarkably like a sulking five-year-old. Why did Penelope manage to have that effect on him? It was really infuriating.

"Oh dear," Penelope sighed. "Parker!"

Parker appeared, holding a cup of tea. "Yes, M'lady?"

"Take Jeff back to my Mansion. He will rest."

"Yes, m'lady. Would you like this, m'lady?"

Penelope accepted the cup. "Thank you Parker. Not nearly as good as your however."

"Thank you, m'lady."

They both looked at Jeff. Jeff sank back further into the seat. But really, he knew he had no chance.

* * *

><p>Fermat frowned at the Thunderbird 1 plans. "We need to get into my Dad's lab," he announced. "We just need to do some rewiring, and paint and then bingo, we're finished." He sighed, sitting back in the chair.<p>

"Sounds cool," Alan announced, giving his best friend a friendly punch to the shoulder. "Let's go."

"Um...not meaning to sound stupid or anything, but I'm hungry," Gordon spoke up. He shrugged as they looked at him. "We haven't eaten in 24 hours. Let's eat something."

John shook his head. "Fine. But then we have to fix '1."

"Actually, Gordon's right," Tin-Tin told them. "Eat, then relax for a bit."

"Relax?" Fermat gasped.

"Wrong word. Think about what our plans are, before doing anything." Tin-Tin admitted. There was a pause and then they all nodded.

"Okay," John thought aloud. "Someone can call Dad while we're getting the food."

"It's getting dark here though, it'll be the middle of the night there," Tin-Tin pointed out. She tucked her hair behind her shoulders. "John, come and help me get food. You're the only other person here who I can guarantee won't blow up a microwave."

Alan gave an indignant cough and Gordon crossed his arms, and sulked. Fermat, still writing down things about '1, didn't even look up.

Tin-Tin laughed and dragged John away from the table, where he was reaching for his watch. "Come on," she told him firmly.

"But I was-" he began to protest and then stopped as she shot him a pointed look. "Ah, yeah, you're right, Iwas going to help you in the kitchen."

Alan smirked at him as he was dragged away, mouthing "Good luck!"

Fermat shoved his glasses further up his nose as he grabbed a pencil and wrote something down on a scrap pad. Then he circled something on the diagram on Thunderbird 1 in yellow highlighter.

"What's that for?" Alan frowned, peering over his friend's shoulder. Fermat pointed the pencil at what he had circled.

"What problems do we have with the retractable wings? They're not damaged," Gordon pointed out, and then disappeared under the table.

Alan and Fermat exchanged glances before peering under the table. Gordon re-emerged triumphant, holding a packet of _something_. He opened it and popped one of the sweets in his mouth.

"What a-are those?" Fermat asked.

"M&Ms," Gordon replied. Seeing everyone was still looking at him, he added: "Want one?"

Alan sniffed dramatically. "How old are those?"

Gordon shrugged and then thought for a moment. "About two years?"

"Gross. Just...ugh," Alan muttered.

Gordon held out the packet to Fermat. "Sure I can't tempt you?"

"Ah, no, I-I'm good, thanks," Fermat told him hurriedly. "I ate e-earlier."

"No you didn't," Tin-Tin called out in a sing-song voice from the kitchen.

Fermat glared at the door. "Well _anyway_."

"Your loss," Gordon grinned. Alan shook his head. "I wasn't gonna offer you any, anyway sprout," he told his younger brother.

"Hello!" John announced, all but skidding into the room. "Would someone mind saving me?"

Alan grinned. "International Rescue at your service, sir."

John leapt behind his chair and promptly disappeared out the other door.

"JOHN!" Tin-Tin entered, looking furious. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"In Thunderbird 3 on his way to the moon?" Gordon offered. Tin-Tin glared at him.

"I will come out if you forgive me," John called out from somewhere.

"what'd he do?" Fermat asked.

"He stole a packet of crisps and some sandwiches. And I hadn't finished using them."

"I was hungry!" The protest seemed to come from the patio now. Tin-Tin stepped threateningly towards the doors. Deciding that his brother was genuinely in danger, Alan took a step towards his girlfriend.

"Now, Tin-Tn, you know how Johnny gets."

"Stupid, you mean!"

"He can be a idiot, yes, but I'd rather you didn't kill him, cos Dad's not here and I don't really want to be making funeral arrangements."

"You have a sick sense of humour, Allie!" John yelled from the patio.

"You just figured that out?" Gordon asked through a mouthful of M&Ms.

Alan glared at him. "Say, Tin-Tin, why don't you kill fish-feet here instead of Johnny?"

"Good luck." Gordon announced, propping up his feet on the table. Fermat glared at him as he dislodged the pencil. Gordon shrugged and then hopped under the table again To fetch it just as Alan turned round.

"What the hell is it today with you and _tables_?" Alan demanded, finding it slightly annoying.

The breeze coming in from the patio doors swept the M&Ms packet into Alan's face. "Yuck!" He coughed, grabbing the packet. There, in bold letters, the use-by date announced that Gordon had been...

"You lied!" Alan yelled.

"Huh?" Gordon glanced out, spotted a pair of shoes, looked up at their owner and retreated back under the table. "Um...I like M&Ms?"

"So do I!"

"Oh for god's sake, would you _shut up_ about M&Ms?" Tin-Tin shouted.

"They t-taste pathetic anyway," Fermat added.

Alan stared at him. "Y-y-you-"

"I'm the one with the s-stutter," Fermat added.

"You insulted M&Ms!" Gordon yelled at the top of his voice. Tin-Tin pointed the spoon in her hands threateningly and he retreated further under the table.

The eyes of Jeff's portrait started flashing. For a moment, everyone stared stupidly at it until John threw himself into Jeff's seat and opened the link.

"Hi Dad," he announced brightly.

Jeff looked at him in bemusement. "What is going on?"

"Huh?" John frowned, concerned for his father's state of mind.

"What is GORDEN under the table? Why is Tin-Tin all but shoving a spoon into his face? Why is Alan looking at Fermat as if he just blew up Thunderbird 3? Why is Fermat circling everything on that sheet of paper in bright yellow, when he doesn't actually eve like the colour yellow? Why are you, acting just..." Jeff paused, thinking of the right word.

"Weird?" Gordon called out.

"Weird..." Jeff agreed. He raised his eyebrows at John. "Well?"

"Gordon lied about M&Ms!" Alan yelled.

"Fermat insulted M&Ms!" Gordon shouted, before darting back under the table again.

"They won't shut up about M&Ms!" Tin-Tin screamed.

Fermat just shrugged. "I've decided the colour yellow isn't so bad after a-all," he announced after a pause.

Jeff sighed, rubbing his face. "You okay?" John asked him.

"Just tired," Jeff admitted.

"Yeah, I can see that. You look like s-" Gordon broke off, remembering who he was talking too.

"Care to finish that sentence, Gordon?" Jeff challenged him.

Gordon looked at Alan, but his younger brother, still sulking about the sweets, turned away. "I was saying," he began in a small voice. "That you look like shit."

There was silence. Then Jeff started laughing. "Funny, that's more or less what Penny implied as well!"

"Except in a posher voice," Alan put it and was smacked by Tin-Tin with the spoon. "Ow!"

* * *

><p>It hurt. There was a burning pain although it was dulled slightly by the fact that he was still sleepy. He drew a hand over his face and tried to remember what had happened. The sleepy feeling was still making his thought process slow though and for that moment, all he could remember was a big green aircraft. TB2. Wait, what was TB2?<p>

This was all too tiring. He slept again.

The next time he awoke, he opened his eyes. Everything seemed clearer. There had been someone with a gun, and then he'd been shot. That's funny, he thought there was someone else who'd been shot.

"Hi sleeping beauty!"

He'd known there was someone else. "Scott! You're okay?"

Scott grimaced. "Painful, but all things considered, we didn't do too badly, did we?"

"We're alive!"

"And a prize for Virgil for figuring it out!"

"And you're being sarcastic? That's not right!"

Scott couldn't help but laugh. "Geez, Virge, what did they give you?"

Virgil shrugged. "Dunno. But it sucked."

There was a soft swish as the doors swung open. A tall man in a white coat and black glasses came into the room. "Your doctor wants to see you," He told Scott.

Scott nodded. "Sure." There was an awkward pause and he glanced from the ma to Virgil and back again. "Oh I don't mind my brother being here."

"The doctor does." The man motioned to a wheel chair.

"I refuse to go in that!" Scott glared at the wheelchair as if it had just set fire to '1. Virgil frowned at the man...where did he know him from?

"Walk then," the man growled. "I don't mind. Follow me."

Virgil closed his eyes, trying to recall where he knew the man. On a rescue? No, that wasn't right. He opened his eyes, to see Scott had gone, and the man was disappearing. The man's foot was disappearing round the corner but Virgil caught sight of a large scar. In an instant, he remembered the third man that had been there but had run when John and Alan had appeared.

"No! Scott, he's one of _them_!" Virgil yelled a warning. The door swung shut. Desperately, he leapt out the bed, almost collapsing on the floor as pain rushed through him. He scrambled across the floor, his vision swimming with black spots. He grabbed the handle of the door to find it locked.

He tried to reach his watch to find it was gone. "Oh shit. No!" He pounded on the door frantically.

"Someone! Let me out!" He glanced out the window to see a black car zooMing off at top speed.

"_No_!"

* * *

><p>John frowned up at Alan, sitting high on the wing of '1, concentrating fiercely on a wire. "Are you okay?" He yelled up.<p>

A loud curse answered him. Alan reached out for a spanner and reached out with his foot to catch his balance. A loud siren, alerting them to a rescue made him jump, and he slipped.

"Alan!" John felt his heart jump into his mouth. Alan skidded across the surface of '1 before slipping and falling on top of the other wing.

"Holy Shit! Remind me not to do that again!"

"Allie! You sure you're okay?"

"I'm alive aren't I?" John grinned.

"Thank god!"

Gordon and Fermat came running into the room.

"You know that rescue call?" Gordon gasped. "It's because a very familiar rescue vehicle which we supposedly had under control, is heading for a familiar building!"

"What?"

"Thunderbird 3 is heading for the largest bank in the world!"

Everyone looked at each other. "That's not possible!" Alan exclaimed. "I had it under Control!"

"Unless one of us tried to control it by a watch..." John admitted. "But we have our watches."

"Virgil and Scott!" He exchanged looks with Gordon and the swore loudly, diving for Thunderbird 2's silo. A moment later the green thunderbird was heading for their injured brothers.

Alan stared after them. Tin-Tin hugged him. "It'll be okay," she whispered. He nodded numbly. "Fermat, how much more work is there to be done on '1?"

Silence.

"Fermat?"

Fermat was gone.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Okaaay...that wasn't meant to happen. Really, I wasn't planning on being so mean to Scott. I mean, so far I have had a bomb strapped to him, had him unconscious, had him shot twice and now I've had him abducted. I'm mean! *grins uncertainly*<em>**

**_But please review! They genuinely do brighten up my really dull days! And, *crosses fingers* my parents might get well again soon, so I will be able to get back to my usual update routine._**

**_A massive thank you to Anna for beta-ing this by the way! Oh and thanks to Smish123, you know why!_**

**_You are amazing!_**

**_Kat x._**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Hi! Here is the promised update and did you notice that I'm technically 1 hour early, because I like to think that the evening starts at 7pm, and it's 6pm! Aren't I marvellous? Jokes! *Smiles and looks around for her Christmas hat* **_

_**Have you noticed how everyone on Fanfiction seems to write random stuff up here in the Authors' Note. As if we think someone will read it? *Cough cough* I read it *cough cough* :)**_

_**But anyway! Excuse me and my totally crazy imagination! You'll be wanting me to stop talking so you can read! So I won't keep you any longer. Oh, and please throw away all weapons now - I don't want to be hurt at the end of this update. You'll see why! *gives evil laugh***_

_**:)**_

* * *

><p>Okay. What to do if you are trapped in a hospital, locked in a room while lunatics are roaming around and have abducted your brother.<p>

Think?

Well, duh. Of course you think, Virgil told his subconsciousness. But what action do you take? Try and find that blasted watch. That would help. No where would it have been put?

A quick glance round the room revealed a cupboard full of medical supplies and chest of drawers with a lamp on them. The chest of drawers would be normally where patients' things were kept. He moved over to them, and tugged on the drawer handles.

They were locked.

Virgil grinned - it was times like this, that he was grateful he'd listened to Parker's old stories. Finding a paperclip in the medical cabinet, he entered it in the lock and twisted it. The drawer opened with an audible click and he started rifling through the things inside.

Newspapers. Just loads and loads of newspapers.

_**The Thunderbirds Do it Again**_

_**International Rescue Saves Christmas In America**_

_**Hundreds Of Lives Saved After International Rescue Puts Out Fire**_

Virgil stared at it. These guys were obsessive, in a crazy way. They had scrawled over the articles, notes and plans. They had been planning this for a long time, he realised with a sinking feeling.

Something metallic rattled at the bottom of the drawer and he grinned. Bingo - one watch found. Small problem - only one. Where's Scott's? Have they got it? Let's just hope they don't know how to work it.

Sitting, leaning against the bed for support, he spoke into the watch.

"Virgil Tracy to Tracy Island. Hey guys? Do you mind picking up?'

* * *

><p>"Where were you?"<p>

"In my Dad's lab! C-Calm down Al, I was just getting some equipment we might need. Although it would be easier if we had '2. We n-need to just finish the repairs to '1, but then we can get going."

Alan turned away and stared out the window. The sky was darkening, a promise that the night was not far away. The first stars were appearing on the horizon. "I know Fermat." He sighed. "Sorry. I'm just a bit stressed out."

"We can see that," Tin-Tin teased him. "You're reminding me of that time when you lost your alligator in your Grandmother's room."

Alan shuddered. "First time I've ever been glad to go up to '5."

They smiled, remembering it. The alligator had been missing for three days, when the fish started to go missing. That was when Alan had escaped up to '5, hiding from his Grandmother and Father's fury, leaving Tin-Tin, Fermat and Gordon to catch the escaped alligator.

There was a burst of static from the radio and then a familair voice called out: "Virgil Tracy to Tracy Island. Hey guys? Do you mind picking up?"

For a moment, Alan stared stupidly at the radio and then leapt into his father's chair, connecting the call.

"Virgil!"

"Hey, Sprout!" Alan stared at the screen showing him his brother. They'd had that massive argument, and yet Virgil seemed to have forgiven him without him even apologising. Alan wondered, in horror, if his brother was suffering from short-term memory loss. But that couldn't be right - the doctors hadn't mentioned anything like that.

"Hi..."

"Look, um, Alan, I'm in a bit of a sticky situation right now."

"What sort of situation?"

"Those weirdoes with the guns are back. They're pretending to be members if staff. I'm currently locked in a room and they've abducted Scott."

"What?"

"I only realised it wasn't a doctor when the breeze from the door closing behind them blew the 'doctor's coat' up slightly, revealing his ankles, and he had a scar like the other guy did."

"Oh..." Alan bit back the curse threatening to come out. "Did he have his watch on?"

"Negative. I don't know where it is. I've found mine, but his seems to have disappeared."

"Is there a window in your room?"

"Yes. It's locked though and even if it was open I couldn't get out that way. It's too high."

"Okay. Fermat - is there anything you can think of?"

Fermat frowned. "Is there a f-fire alarm in your r-room?"

Virgil thought a moment. "One sec," he disappeared briefly. "Yes."

"Set it off. That's the only way you're going to be able to alert someone to the fact you're locked in w-without us telling them, and t-that would r-re-reveal your connection to International R-Rescue."

"FAB."

There was a pause and then a shrill noise was heard wailing in the background. Virgil winced covering his ears.

"Alan!" Tin-Tin was looking at the reports coming through from the rescue call they'd received when he was repairing '1. "There were two rescues calls!"

"Huh?" Alan stared at her. Tin-Tin had to be wrong. Bt he had a sinking feeling that she wasn't.

"There was that one because of the bank, yes, but there's this one as well!"

Alan stared down at the reports. "It's un-readable."

"Exactly!"

"I could try running it through the t-translator?" Fermat suggested.

Alan nodded. "Yeah, that'd be good, thanks Fermat."

* * *

><p>John glanced across at Gordon. "You want to get some of that food? We never did get to eat anything back at home."<p>

Gordon raised his eyebrows. "You eat this stuff?"

John shook his head. "Hell no!" He grinned. "I eat the stuff that Alan snuck on board when Virgil wasn't looking."

Gordon smiled. "Trust Allie. Although I'm damn glad he did. Here you go."

John flashed him a grateful grin, and then opened the box, only to have a green snake slither out onto him. "What the hell? There's a freakin' snake in here!"

Gordon burst out laughing. John glared at him before removing what he now knew was a rubber snake and dropping it on floor. Gordon cast the snake a rueful glance. "That was meant to happen to Virgil."

John help but laugh, imagining what the look on his younger brother's face would have been when a rubber snake jumped out at him. "You're lucky it was me, Virgil would have thrown you out of '2 without a parachute."

Gordon brightened. "Ooh, now that would be fun."

John shook his head in mock despair. "You're a lost cause. Why'd you have to be such a dare-devil?"

Gordon gave a wicked grin. "Well, let's face it, I had to have a good mentor didn't I?"

John sighed. "I regret that night when we were kids that I showed you how to get up onto the roof."

"I couldn't believe it when you told me. That was just so stupid of you!"

"Oh really? Who are you calling stupid, squirt?" He growled.

"You, space-case!" They laughed and sat back in the seats. The green thunderbird carried on, heading into the sunset.

* * *

><p>"You okay?"<p>

Alan jumped at the sound of Tin-Tin's voice. He shrugged, leaning on the balcony rail, looking out at the last rays of the sun, which were fast disappearing. The dark sky above was scattered with glittering stars which reminded him of the damaged Thunderbird 5. The Thunderbird had never been designed to have _everything_ shut down.

Tin-Tin wrapped an arm round his shoulders. "They'll be fine."

"Maybe. I just wish I could _do_ something. Instead, I'm stuck here manning base. I know it's important...but I want a more _active_ role."

"I know," Tin-Tin whispered, sitting down in a chair beside him. She sighed. "Alan - when did you last sleep?"

Alan turned and looked at her. "Um..." He struggled to recall.

"Exactly. You need rest. Then you wake up tomorrow, finish repairing '1 and we fly out to collect Virgil."

Alan went to protest but stopped. "When did you get so smart?"

"Oh thanks," Tin-Tin said sarcastically. "So you thought I was stupid before?"

"Oh, Tin, I didn't-"

"I know what you meant," she laughed and hugged him. "Come on, Al. Oh and by the way-" She lowered her voice. "I discovered John's chocolate stash."

Alan grinned and then yawned. Tin-Tin dragged him inside. "Sleep. Now."

"Okay." Too tired to argue, Alan nodded.

Tin-Tin watched him go, worried about him. Oh well, he'd be better once they were on the move. She headed for Brains' lab, where Fermat was figuring out the quickest way to finish '1's repairs.

"Fermat?"

He jumped, and looked up. "Oh, h-hi Tin-Tin."

"Any luck?"

"Y-yes actually. Look, if w-we do this, then that," he traced the plans with his pencil. "Then we'll be on the move by 10am tomorrow. But if we get to work at 5am, then we'll be done by 7:30am."

"Okay." Tin-Tin frowned at her watch. "Say...I might be wrong, but didn't they all have their edible transmitters with them on that rescue?"

Fermat thought for a moment. "Dad would know."

He contacted Brains by the texting system built into the watch. "They did!" He exclaimed.

* * *

><p>Scott blinked in the darkness. "Where the hell am I?" He wondered aloud. The injury from the gun-shot which had been treated in hospital was bleeding again. He swore, trying to figure out what had happened.<p>

He'd gone into a room with the doctor, which he now knew clearly wasn't a doctor, and then something had smacked into him.

And now he was here.

Okaaay. That sucked.

Scott tried to look at his surroundings, and spotted a long black box with red letters and numbers on it. His vision blurred for a moment and the world treated alarmingly.

_Note to self: Do not move Scott when you have been hit on the head three times and been shot_.

He wanted a drink actually. He couldn't remember when he'd last had a glass of water. He couldn't help but grin, remembering Kyrano's fantastic lemonade last Summer.

Scott shifted along the wall slightly, as fast as his pounding headache and his bound ankles and wrists would let him. Leaning forwards ever so slightly, he caught sight of what was tying his ankles together.

Shit. He'd been hoping it was just your average rope, but it was handcuffs. Or, in this particular occasion, ankle-cuffs.

At least from here he could see the box object.

There were 8 Letters:

TB

TB

TB

TB

Scott felt a sinking feeling. Please, please, let me be wrong about this. TB:

"Thunderbirds," he whispered. Oh shit.

TB 1: NOT CONNECTED

TB2 : NOT CONNECTED

TB3: CONNECTED

TB4: NOT CONNECTED

They were getting control of all the Thunderbirds! He shifted further along the wall. They had control of Thunderbird 3.

"Ah, Scott Tracy. You are awake. How delightful." The voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Scott looked up at the man who stepped into the room. "Rarl," he spat. "What the hell is this?"

"Oh this? You've guessed already I believe. It's how we're gaining control of the Thunderbirds. We have control of Thunderbird 3. We have destroyed Thunderbird 5."

Ah. John will kill you.

"And now we're going to gain control of another Thunderbird."

Why do I get the feeling I know exactly which Thunderbird you're going to mention.

"What's the access code for Thunderbird 1?"

"I'm not telling you that!" Let this looser get hold of his beloved Thunderbird? No freakin' way! Scott glared at him.

"Oh what a shame," Rarl sighed. "I thought you would be easy. Of course, I know the one thing that _can_ make International Rescue fall."

Scott eyed the little control Rarl removed from his pocket. "Rarl, what are you talking about?"

"This," the man said delightedly. "Is a remote control."

"I may have just been knocked out several times but I'm not blind. I know its a remote control. But for what?"

"If I press this button here, then the hospital will be blown up. And the remains of the bomb will have International Rescue markings on it." He laughed. "Oh, and guess who'll be locked in his room, unable to get out?"

Scott stared at him. "You wouldn't."

"Seriously? I've had my men shoot you and your brother already today. I have had your Thunderbirds attacked."

'2 and '1.

"I will press this button and kill your brother just like that. Now what is the access code? I will give an hour to think things through." Rarl gave him a smile and left the room leaving Scott alone with the machine designed to take over International Rescue.

He felt something in his pocket. That was weird...what was it? Scott frowned at it.

"Edible Transmitter!" He realised. Now how to get it from the floor to his mouth without ending up head-over-heels?

Flick it. Ah.

He flicked his wrist, sending it flying through the air.

He smiled triumphantly, having swallowed it.

Now hurry up and get here guys, 'cos I can't guarantee this guy isn't going to kill Virgil.

* * *

><p>"Alan! Alan! Wake up!"<p>

Alan stuck his head under the pillow as the door burst open. "I don't want to get up yet, go away."

"Get up, s-sucker! We need to go r-rescue your b-brothers!"

Now that rung a few bells. There was that problem that Virgil had been talking about...now what was that again?

"Alan!"

Coughing and spluttering as a bucket full of ice-cold water was emptied onto his head, Alan went to get out of bed, for his feet to get caught up, and tumbled onto the floor.

"Well that was graceful!" Tin-Tin laughed. "Do you normally take this long to wake up?"

His blond hair now sticking up in spikes, thanks to Fermat, Alan blinked up at Tin-Tin. "Huh?"

She threw him a towel. "Come on!"

"Okay, okay!" Finally woken up, Alan tried to dry his hair off, gave up and dashed after his friends. A familiar blue dot, signalling a tracker, was flashing on the computer screen.

Alan stopped and stared. "Scott found his tracker!"

"Exactly!" Tin-Tin laughed. "So we can go help them!"

"What about '1?"

Tin-Tin and Fermat exchanged glances. "We figured you needed the sleep. Now come on!"

"You fixed her?" Alan stared at the silver, blue and red thunderbird. "Wow, you guys did an awesome job!"

"Well it's n-not that bad I g-guess," Fermat said modestly. Alan high-fived him and ran into '1.

"Let's go!"

"FAB!

* * *

><p>Virgil frowned as grey wisps of what looked like fog swirled around the room, entering front under the door. He could smell smoke. It was smoke!<p>

"Shit, shit!" He cursed. struggling with the window. It was locked fast and there was nothing that would get it to open.

Then there was a massive explosion, and everything went dark.

* * *

><p>Scott stared at him. "No, no, don't do it!"<p>

Rarl's fingers crept closer to the button. "Now this is the deal. You get me control of '1, and your brother lives. You don't, and your brother dies."

Scott glanced at the box and then at the Remote. "Fine," he muttered, and typed in the wrong access code.

"Very clever, but not so clever I won't figure it out." Rarl smirked.

Scott typed in the correct access code.

TB1: CONNECTED

"Thanks," Rarl announced and then pressed the button on the remote.

"No!" Scott tried to kick the remote out of the man's hands but just ended up on the floor.

"You should know by now I never keep my promises." Rarl whispered. "Shame about your brother. But he wasn't necessary. You all know each other's access codes."

Not true actually. He didn't know the access codes for '4, but he was dammed certain he wasn't going to mention that. He was certain that the others were going to get out of this. Alive.

Virgil. No, he couldn't be dead.

If he is, then it's all my fault.

* * *

><p>"We're getting a warning signal of someone trying to take control of our current flight plan," Tin-Tin alerted Alan.<p>

"What? But the only other person who could do that would be Scott and he wouldn't do that." Alan frowned.

"L-loosing control! Alan - we're falling out the skies!" Fermat yelled.

The Thunderbird tumbled from the skies, leaving only one choice available to Alan. "Going into lockdown!"

"Are you crazy?"

Alan glanced at Tin-Tin. "Yes!"

As the Thunderbird was about to plunge into the ocean, he yelled at Fermat: "Give me control again!"

"FAB!"

The Thunderbird spiralled upwards and then Alan guided her back to Tracy Island. As they stumbled out of '1, Tin-Tin looking positively sick, the Thunderbird took off again.

"Someone else has control," Alan shouted. "Freakin' losers who have control!"

Tin-Tin smacked him. Stumbling backwards, he stared at her. "What was that for?"

"Think logically! You need a Thunderbird. So what do you do?"

Alan paused. "I-I..."

"Alan! Tin-Tin! Look at t-the freakin n-news!" Fermat yelled. They all stumbled into the lounge where the headline read:

HOSPITAL BLOWN UP: IF INTERNATIONAL RESCUE ARE LISTENING: WE NEED YOU IF THERE ARE GOING TO BE ANY SURVIVORS.

"But...that's the hospital where-" Tin-Tin broke off and slowly turned to look at Alan who promptly collapsed onto the chair.

"If there's going to be any survivors, they need Thunderbirds and we don't have any. So Virgil's..."

Tin-Tin hugged him. "Oh Alan..."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Um...don't kill me. *ducks as random objects come flying out of nowhere* Not looking at anyone in particular Smish123! I didn't mean to be so cruel to Virgil! Honest! *grins*<strong>_

_**I will update tomorrow. Yeah, that's right, tomorrow! All thanks to my fantastic beta, who has been fantastic with listening to all my crazy ideas! Thanks Anna. :)**_

_**Thanks for your wonderful reviews!**_

_**Kat x.**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Hi! Well thanks to the amazing reviews I got within two hours of posting the last chapter, I decided to put this one up before tomorrow. But ultimately, you have my beta to thank for agreeing to check this all through and point out my crazy mistakes at such a short notice when I know she's very busy at the moment! Thanks!**_

_**Thanks bubzchoc for your review! Oh and Smish123, I couldn't keep you in suspense! :)**_

_**Here you all go! And enjoy!**_

* * *

><p>Wow. How he had managed to survive that was beyond Virgil. He remembered the window shattering and then being thrown clear, but then he had been knocked out.<p>

Virgil propped himself up, stumbled backwards and then, safely clear of the on-going explosions, sat down against a tree. He frowned - it was almost like there had been some sort of bomb in the building. That probably was what it had been actually, he thought to himself, which meant that somehow the guys with the guns were involved.

He inspected himself for any injuries. He had a cut on his forehead and his injury that had been being treated in the hospital was sore but all things considered, he'd got off quite lightly.

Now he was in trouble though. That was obvious, Virgil thought to himself. The debris which had flown off in different directions from the hospital had caught alight on long grass and bushes and had now created a circle of fire.

With Virgil in the middle of it.

"Damn," he muttered. He glanced up at the sky. There were some clouds that looked pretty dark gathering on the horizon but he'd be roasted by time they started raining. Looking down at his watch, he saw the screen was cracked but Brains had built them to be pretty indestructible. The radio contact would still be working.

"Oh well, only one way to find out." He thought aloud. Conscious that he had no idea who was near-by, he spoke quietly into the watch. "Hello?"

* * *

><p>"We have a problem."<p>

_Oh really? _John thought sarcastically at the sound of Gordon's voice. _You're telling me that now, buster? We have a thunderbird out of control and you've just realised we've got_ _a problem?_

"John? I mean we have a really _bad_ problem."

Exasperated, John swung round in his chair, putting '2 on auto-pilot. "What've we got?"

Gordon was looking worriedly at the news reports he was getting through. "What was the name of the hospital Virgil and Scott were at?"

"Why?"

Gordon nodded to the news reports. "You tell me," he muttered sarcastically.

John cursed their bad luck. The hospital had been calling International Rescue as there had been an explosion. But they were already on their way to stop Thunderbird 3 reaching China.

"If we go to Top Speed, then we could use the magnetic grabs to slow down '3 while we find a way to force them to land and then get back in the hour to help the hospital? It would take us an hour from Tracy Island anyway - we're closer."

"Good point," John admitted, slightly annoyed that Gordon had worked it out before him. "But the hospital patients are in danger."

"So are the people of China," Gordon argued. "I want to go to the hospital too, but a Thunderbird on the loose?"

John couldn't help but grin at the way Gordon had put it. A Thunderbird on the loose...

"Carry onto China. Top Speed."

"FAB." Gordon replied automatically. The force shoved them back in their seats and John grabbed the controls, gaining height.

Up ahead, sunlight was reflecting off something. It glinted red and John recognised instantly. He'd seen it so many times, arriving to take him down to Earth from Thunderbird 5.

"Thunderbird 3!" He yelled, leaning forwards in his seat. "We found her!"

Gordon winced. "Would you mind not yelling in my ear?"

John flashed him an apologetic glance. "Sorry. Okay, so I fly '2 as close as I can, and then you activate the grabs."

"We'll force 'em out the sky," Gordon grinned determinedly. "Ready, John."

"FAB." He eased '2 closer to '3, taking care not to let it's occupants know that they were there. "Going off the radar. Get ready with grabs."

"FAB."

"Activate grabs...now!"

"Grabs activated." John held his breath for a minute and then punched the air in delight as '3 slowed down, the grabs connected.

"Slow down, John." Gordon noted. John nodded, and began loosing altitude. The engines were making a low whining noise as they struggled to pull '3 with them.

"What if we lost altitude going fast? That would work, surely?" John wondered.

Gordon nodded, looking over his shoulder at the signals the engines were sending the instruments. "Must be worth a try."

"Right. Let's go."

After a tense few minutes, '2's extra weight forced '3 to come with down with them and John cut the speed, and landed. He sat back in the seat.

"Come on!" Gordon was at the door.

"Wait - take this." John tossed him his IR gun that he had retrieved from the hospital floor. Gordon froze, staring at the gun like a rabbit caught in the head-lights.

"Um...I'm sure I don't need it." He replied hastily. John sighed. So much for him thinking that Gordon had stopped blaming himself. It may have seemed that way, but it was no good if Gordon couldn't handle a gun.

"You take it," He told Gordon.

"I...John..." Gordon looked at him pleadingly.

"Gordon, take the freakin' gun. We don't have time for this." He shoved the gun into his younger brother's fist. "Take it."

Gordon closed his eyes for a second then made up his mind. "Okay." He said very quietly and then more determinedly, "Okay."

John patted him on the back. "Good guy."

Gordon glared at him. "Don't even try."

"Try what?"

"Stop patronising me."

"I wasn't!" John protested, but as he stepped out of the Thunderbird into the sunlight after Gordon, he grinned. It was just like when he'd been scared to go back up on '5 after the satellite had been hit by a meteorite. He'd had to face his fears, just like Gordon had to now.

"Okay. Stay together." John whispered.

"Well, duh." Gordon grinned. Running low to the ground, they threw themselves into the shadow of '3. John poked his head out of the grass, trying not to laugh at Gordon who was spitting out grass seeds.

"Okaaay..." John crept forwards, and then flung himself behind '3's engines. "Now somewhere round here there should be...ah-ha!"

"What?" Gordon questioned, his gun pointing outwards towards the exit of '3.

"Found the other entrance. Got a pen-knife?"

"Yeah. Why, you need it?"

"Yep." John held out his hand and Gordon fished around in his pocket for the pen-knife. Having found it, he handed it to John.

John nodded to Gordon, mouthing _thanks_. Gordon shrugged. "Hurry up, John."

"Alright...okay, let's go." He swung himself through the open hatch, Gordon following.

"I never know where the lift is in this rocket," Gordon muttered. John raised an eyebrow at him. "Jokes, dude. Jokes." He exclaimed.

John mimed strangling him. Gordon finally took the hint and fell silent. Stepping into the 'lift' that would take them up to the cockpit of the rocket, John loaded his gun.

"You reckon we'll have to use them?" Gordon asked.

"What?"

"The guns."

"Oh, right. No, at least I hope not."

They fell silent and then the doors opened. John took a deep breath and then stepped out into the cabin.

"What the hell?"

* * *

><p>Alan stared down at the computer screen. "This is so damn difficult. How does John do it?"<p>

Fermat leant forwards. "Just s-set the course and keep an eye on a-any obstacles. It'll be f-fine."

Alan guided the object on the screen past a massive mound of slime covered rocks, his fist wrapped round the control stick like it was a life or death matter. Which, actually, if Gordon ever found out, it would be. Alan already had planned out a route to help him escape from his older brother if he damaged '4.

Tin-Tin came into the room and stopped, seeing her two friends bent over the computer as if it were the only life source left in the world. "What're you doing?"

Fermat jumped, but Alan didn't even looked up. "Setting course..."

Tin-Tin frowned at Fermat. "We're bringing Thunderbird 4 back here. There's a river near the hospital which we can use."

"How are you doing that?"

"Computer. It's the s-same sort of system that's installed up in '5."

"Except it's harder." Alan moaned.

"Oh stop it. You're d-doing f-fine."

"Yeah right." Alan muttered. Tin-Tin tossed him a chocolate bar.

"Eat. How long 'till '4 gets here?"

"Five hours."

They all turned to look at the clock. Were they even going to get '4 back in time?

* * *

><p>Virgil backed away from the flames that were lapping at the grass surrounding him. If only it weren't so bloomin' hot, then he'd be able to think properly. Hooking his belt around a branch of the tree above him, he used it as a makeshift harness, reaching out with his fingers to discover footholds. The tree was twisted, which helped, and he reached a reasonably high branch. Glancing down, he spotted fire engulfing the tall grass he'd been crouched in moments before.<p>

He continued climbing and then stopped. There was no-where left to go. The flames were curling around the trunk, snaking their way towards him, teasingly slow. Fire surrounded everywhere around the tree, so jumping out was not an option. But, Virgil thought to himself, waiting in the tree wasn't an option either unless he wanted to be like a roasted chicken. Which he didn't.

There was a long wall which towered just above the flames, slightly lower than the branch he was currently on which would offer another precious few minutes of survival. The others were sure taking their time, he noted, glancing up at the sky. Thunderbird 2 would be like an angel to him right now, if they would just get there.

The wall was a short distance away, but it was still quite a long way to jump. This wasn't like a training exercise where you could afford to fall off, or slip, or loose your balance. This time, you fall, you die, Virgil told himself. Oh that's very encouraging isn't it Virgil? That's a great frame of mind to be in. You can do this.

He stepped forwards on the branch, caught sight of the flames below and froze.

I can't do this.

He blinked, remembering the first ever rescue he'd done. How great it had felt to save those people. And then that elevator car had done that flip and ended up in a ditch. Actually, watching the footage, it looked quite funny.

Focus. It's just one short jump. It's like that jump between those two trees Gordon dared you do last month.

No it's not. That was at home and didn't have the possibility of being burnt alive if I fell off. Plus, Scott and John were supervising, even if they were pretending to be just running along the beach.

It is like that.

No it's not.

Yes it is.

Virgil took a deep breath, summoned up an image of the whole family, including Brains, in his mind and jumped off the branch.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Sorry Smish123 - I left you on another cliffhanger! :) <strong>_

_**Erm...sorry? *holds up Thunderbirds DVD case protectively*. I couldn't resist, the girl-of-evil-cliffies in me just had to make me end that on a cliffhanger! Oh, and free virtual cookies if you can guess what Gordon and John found in TB3! :) (Or, if you don't like cookies, I can get you sweets instead! Lol.)**_

_**Oh and by the way - do not panic! Scott will be in the next chapter. I haven't forgotten him...well maybe I did, but I won't tomorrow! *looks guiltily at the floor***_

_**So...I know I don't deserve it for being so mean to Virgil, but...review? *Puppy dog eyes***_

_**Love you all!**_

_**Kat x.**_

_**P.S. I will be posting another chapter tomorrow. I'm on Holidays now, so I have free time, which is great, because that means lots of updates! :)**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Hi! Well actually I'm not that late as it's still Thursday! Thursday already - getting close to Christmas *starts singing Christmas songs*. So here you all go, and I'll be kind this time. Sort of...*gives Scott apologetic glance* But I do end on a nice note!**_

_**So...are you ready? I am! *pulls out a cushion*. **_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

><p>Whoever said silence was deafening was damn right, Scott thought to himself. Edging his way closer to the box, he tried to figure out a plan of action. If he could get control back to '1 and '3, then the others would have a chance. At the moment, all they had was '4 and '2. And '2 was 'apparently' going to be controlled in the morning when he would 'kindly hand over the access codes.'<p>

God knows what he was thinking. By blowing up the hospital, Rarl had also blown up all chances he'd ever had of Scott giving him '2. There was nothing left he could do to make him hand over the access codes. If the others were on Tracy Island.

Damn, he needed his watch. Then he'd be able to contact Penelope and warn her that Rarl's men were after her. They'd left about 30 minutes before, and he had no idea where they were.

Scott reached out to where the box was and stopped, grinning as a small idea formed in his mind. This box now had control of '1, and he was near the box.

Let's hope this works, because I really _don't_ want my Thunderbird crashing into the ground.

Carefully, he reset '1's current flight plan to Tracy Island. Then he sat back, and got ready to wait until the Thunderbird reached his brothers.

* * *

><p>There was a moment when he was literally falling into the flames. And then suddenly, he was clutching at crumbling bricks, fumbling to find a foothold, and then dragging himself onto the wall.<p>

"Holy shit!" Virgil gasped, trying to catch his breath. "I made it."

In some obscure part of his mind, he felt like laughing and yelling at Gordon; Ha - beat that!

Virgil took a moment to glance back at the tree. It was now fully alight, flames rising from its branches, giving the impression of a phoenix. Well he had no intention of ever doing _that_ again. He was all but shivering with fear still.

Okay, it's official. I hate fire.

He grinned which was mad considering he was currently crouched on a wall with fire rising up around him.

Hey, that would make an awesome painting. The tree, and those flames...concentrate!

He started crawling along the wall, keeping his head low to try and avoid breathing too much of the smoke, although it didn't make too much of a difference. Just a bit further...oh for crying out loud. What is it with the jumps today?

Just ahead of him, the wall had crumbled away, creating a small jump, but nothing like what he had just done. Virgil practically walked across it, continuing to where the wall ended at the side of a building. Using part of his watch strap, he scraped part of it away, creating footholds for himself.

Scrambling up onto the roof of the building, he flung himself onto the flat part of the roof, which was also the highest part, furthest away from the flames. Something was causing a shadow over him...a familiar looking shadow.

Virgil glanced up, only just realising what the flat part of the 'roof' was. It was, in fact, not a roof at all, but a raised piece of land used as a landing strip. And on the landing strip was an aeroplane. A small aeroplane, yes, but an aeroplane.

All but bouncing over to it in delight, he opened it, revelling in the fact it wasn't locked. He'd used to have one of these when he'd first got his flying license, before International Rescue.

A Cessna 180. Fantastic! He knew how to fly these. He hadn't flown one for a while, true, but if he could fly an aircraft like Thunderbird 2, then he was not about to be defeated by a Cessna.

Virgil climbed into the pilot's seat, closing the doors behind him. Leaning forwards, he started the engine, taking a moment to remind himself that this wasn't '2 and some things wouldn't be where he was used to them being.

Checking he knew where everything was, he took off. Setting course for Lady Penelope's.

"Let's see if this radio's working," he whispered, leaning forwards and connecting the radio to the correct channel.

"Tracy Island?"

* * *

><p>Ah. Well that might mean that he was going to have to put those hiding places to goof use, Alan thought miserably. There was a scraping sound, and he winced as '4's side connected with the rocks.<p>

Oh my god. Gordon is going to kill me.

"Alan? We have a small problem..."

"What's wrong?" Alan looked up at Tin-Tin and wondered why she was looking out to sea. Straightening up, he got to his feet and tried to spot what she was looking at. A familiar blue, silver shape was coming towards them.

"What the hell?" He stared at '1 as the rocket plane slowed down and came to a stop, hovering above the swimming pool. He leapt for the desk, slamming his hand down on the button that retracted the swimming-pool. The minute the pool was back, revealing the hanger, Thunderbird 1 glided down into her silo.

Alan put the swimming-pool back into position, left Tin-Tin in charge of '4 and ran straight down into the hanger.

'1 looked normal. She didn't seem to have any damage at all and when Alan went into the cockpit, he found he was right in his suspicion that '1 was being controlled by an outside source as there was no-one there.

"Hello?" Alan found himself whispering, even though he knew there was no-one there. He jumped as a voice replied him.

"Allie?"

Alan stared at the radio. "Scott?" He frowned.

"Hi. Look, I'm going to give you control back of '1, but you need to get to the hospital. Immediately, because-"

"Because it's been blown up? I know. I'm trying to get '4 back here, so that no-one can get her. Am I right in thinking that her pod has to opened from '2 or the study?"

"Yeah. Lock the hanger once she's in there. How long till she gets to you?"

"About 10 minutes now?"

"Great. Oh, and Alan?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell Penelope to get out of her mansion and to head for Tracy Island. The guys are after them."

"FAB. Scott, where are you?"

"I wish I knew. No clue, I was unconscious on the way here, so I can't even guess how far I am from the hospital."

Alan sighed. Great. So Scott was somewhere in land of random-evil-people-who-like-to-take-over-Thunderbirds, and Penelope and everyone with her was in danger.

"Alan - don't do anything stupid. I can control the Thunderbirds until Rarl finds out what I'm up to."

"Rarl?"

"An old client of Dad's before IR. He figured out that Dad and Brains where up to something and wanted to be involved. He followed me round trying to get me to tell him what they were up to. Oh and did I mention he tried to drown you?"

"Geez. Why don't I remember that?"

"Dunno. But Alan - get a move on. I don't know when he'd going to get back, and I'd like to give you control when you're in the air. You've got control of '4 still by the way, same with '2."

"FAB."

"Okay. Scott, out."

* * *

><p>Scott glanced at the door where the padlock was swinging in the breeze. Wait - breeze? He was near some sort of window then...<p>

"Alan?"

"In Thunderbird 1. Can we have control now?"

"FAB." He typed in the access code and there was a soft whirring sound as the connection between Thunderbird 1 and the box was severed.

TB1: NOT CONNECTED

"Yes!" He punched the air in delight, before remembering his wrists were tied together. After a moment of wildly trying to catch his balance, he managed to sit up-right again. Time to give back '3 to them as well.

Something glinted in the red glow from the box. Something that looked familiar, and yet Scott couldn't help but think that it wasn't meant to be there.

His watch.

A trap? Maybe. Scott hooked it with his shoe and dragged it closer to him so that he could pick it up. Grinning to himself as he noted the threads attached to it, he came to the conclusion that the watch wasn't meant to be there. It had been dropped.

Please, please, let me be right.

"Calling Virgil Tracy."

* * *

><p>There was no-one there. No-one there. The cockpit was empty. Gordon turned round, trying to spot someone in the shadows but there was no-one there.<p>

"But...that's mad. There has to be someone here." He wasn't aware he'd even spoken out-loud until John replied.

"Well...you're not going to be using that gun."

Gordon grinned. "Nah, I guess not. So was '3 being controlled by remote or something?"

John nodded, sitting down in the seat of the rocket. "There must be a way I can hack into the system and get control back."

Gordon jumped as the radio came to life with a crackle of static. "Thunderbird 3?"

There was an awkward moment when they both stared stupidly at the radio and Gordon replied:

"Um...Scott?"

"Hey, Gordon! Have you taken off yet?"

Gordon shot John a questioning look. John held up five fingers and he nodded.

"Taking off in five minutes."

"Okay, I can get control back to you."

"How?" Gordon asked him.

"I'm...somewhere. But I can get you control back."

"What do you mean by somewhere?"

"I don't actually know where I am right now, but if you could take off as soon as possible?"

"FAB." Gordon told him and turned to John. "So...you going to take '3 while I take '2?"

John nodded and then scrambled to his feet from his position under the control panel of the Thunderbird. He dusted himself down and frowned at the radio.

"Where is he? Because it doesn't sound like Virgil's with him."

"Want me to contact the kids?"

John nodded. "Sure thing. We might finally find out what's going on."

Gordon grinned. "Bit annoying isn't it?"

John gave him a distracted glance. "Huh?"

"Oh never mind." He raised his watch, keeping the main radio clear for when Scott called them again to tell them they had control. "Tracy Island?"

"Gordon?"

"Hi Tin-Tin. Can you give us a brief summing up of the situation so we know what's going on?"

"Of course. I'm sorry, your younger brother was meant to have done that half an hour ago. One moment."

Gordon smirked as Alan's voice sounded in the background.

"Aww, come on Tin, I did mean to do that."

"Shall I tell him about what you've done to-"

There was a scuffling sound and then:

"Alan!"

"Please don't tell him!"

"I don't you killed you idiot, of course I won't." There was a pause and then:

"Gordon? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, of course I am Tin-Tin."

"Okay. Basically, we don't know where Virgil is. Penelope and the others are on their way here and Scott is getting control back to the Thunderbirds. But...um...we don't know where he is. He got...taken."

"What?" There was a curse from John as Gordon accidentally stepped on his foot. "Tell me how on earth he got _taken_?"

"No clue. Hang on, I've got an in-coming call from Lady P."

"Take it, you've me the information we need anyway."

"FAB."

The line went dead and Gordon turned to John. "You hear all that?"

"Before or after you decided that I didn't need my hand?"

"That was an accident, geez Johnny. Sorry, okay?"

"Fine." John pretended to sulk for a moment before looking up as Scott's voice echoed from the radio once more.

"You have control Thunderbird 3."

"FAB. Do you have your watch?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Activate the tracker."

"I've done that with the edible tracker."

"That only lasts so long," John told him. "It's probably run out by now."

"Okay, activating watch. Got to go...hurry up."

The line went dead leaving John staring worriedly at the radio. "Damn."

"Damn what?"

"He told us to hurry up. That's code for get here pretty quick 'cos I'm in trouble right now, probably for giving us control back."

"I can track him in '2."

"I can track him here. '2 has fire-fighting equipment, so you go get Virgil while I get him."

"But they'll still be on the loose."

"We'll find a way to catch them afterwards."

Gordon shifted from one foot to the other. "Okay," he sighed.

He turned to the entrance, before breaking into a sprint, racing towards the green Thunderbird.

* * *

><p>Virgil landed the Cessna smoothly and sat back in the seat, feeling rather pleased with himself.<p>

"Calling International Rescue, London."

He sighed, the radio still wasn't working.

"Virgil?"

He jolted, startled, remembering his watch.

"Scott?"

"You're alive!"

"I think," he grinned. "Where are you?"

"Shut up about me. Where are you?"

"Lady Penelope's."

"Get the hell out of there!"

"Why?"

"Head for Tracy Island."

"Okay." Virgil turned the Cessna round, and took off, gaining altitude. As he started breaking through the cloud-cover, he caught sight of a group of people in black smashing the window of the mansion. "Damn. That's just...damn."

He leaned forwards and switched off the GPS, just in case.

Down below, a man leaning over a flight tracker swore as the Cessna 180 he'd been tracking disappeared from the radar.

"They're not here!"

"Someone's snitched on us. Those freakin'...back to the control room. Back, back, back! He's given them back control!"

The range-rover swerved round, ploughing through a pink rose bush, and went off back in the direction it had come at top speed.

* * *

><p>"Look!" Penelope pointed out at the runway as the palm trees waved from side to side in the breeze. Jeff frowned as a small aeroplane descended from the skies to land gracefully on the runway.<p>

"Who is it?"

"It's Virgil!" Alan yelled. "Look!"

Jeff stared for a moment before running down the runway as a familiar figure stepped out the plane. "Are you okay?" Jeff all but yelled in his son's face.

Virgil took a moment to consider that. "I nearly got roasted, but I'm alive," he replied, grinning. He glanced round, frowning. "Where is everyone?"

"Oh, in '2 and '3."

Virgil looked at Alan. "It is _John_ flying '2 isn't it?"

"Um...actually I think it's Gordon."

"Damn."

Alan started laughing. "I doubt he'll crash it."

"Unlike you and '4," Tin-Tin put in.

Several pairs of eyes turned to look at Alan, who blushed and shifted away from them. "That was an accident."

Virgil grinned. "You'd better run, kiddo. You'd better run."

* * *

><p><em><strong>See - I wasn't that unkind! And I let Virgil get away without hurting himself for once! Aren't I nice? Lol. Even if I did 'accidentally' get '4 damaged! :)<strong>_

_**Have you all noticed the pattern? A chapter each day! *grins* And it's all thanks to your wonderful reviews which encourage me to keep writing! *waves at reviewers***_

_**See you all tomorrow!**_

_**Kat x.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Well hello everyone! I thought I'd be kind and give you all an update before Christmas! So here you go and enjoy! Everyone comfortable? *grabs cushion***_

_**Read on! Enjoy! At least enjoy while you still can... *gives evil laugh***_

* * *

><p>"Thunderbird 2, do you read me?"<p>

"Yeah. Where are you John?" Gordon glanced at the radio, before edging the green Thunderbird forwards. He didn't particularly enjoy having to fly whilst avoiding small explosions that were still coming off the hospital. There was a large plume of smoke coming from the west of the danger-zone. Leaning forwards, he tried to spot a clear place to land before remembering something. "John - where's the fire-fly?"

"Back at base - oh."

Gordon felt like bashing his head against a brick wall. "Oh for crying out loud." There was no time to fly back to Tracy Island and get back again. Okay, what did he have in the pod? A load of stuff that would be useless against a fire unless...they always carried the Fire Truck as a back-up if something went wrong with the firefly. It wasn't as safe as the firefly, but it would do.

Using the heat sensors to navigate his way round the worst of the fires, he spotted a clear patch of land, and landed the Thunderbird. At once, a crowd of people came dashing over, blocking the entrance to the pod. "How're you expecting me to actually help you, if I'm stuck inside here?" Gordon muttered, reaching for the micro-phone.

"This is International Rescue. Would you please clear the area directly in front of the Thunderbird. Thank you for your co-operation."

You should have thought about that first though, he thought as the people hastily backed away, "Thank you," he muttered sarcastically. Opening the pod, he made his way down. A police officer was hanging round the entrance looking uneasy.

"Can I help you?" Gordon asked him.

The police officer jumped, clearly not having been paying attention. "Oh...hi. Do you need security around your...um..."

Gordon grinned as the man stared up at the green rescue craft. "Yes, thanks. That'd be great." He stepped back into the pod and the police officer cleared his throat. Gordon turned back to him and raised his eyebrows.

"Is it just you?"

Gordon grimaced. "We're...in a little difficulty today. It'll be sorted by tomorrow though." I hope, he added silently.

The officer nodded. "Okay. I'll sort out security for you then."

"Thanks." He climbed into the Fire Truck, and hoped that it would actually start. He couldn't remember when they'd last used it. Probably in training and that was, what, about a month ago? He almost clapped his hands in relief when the rumble of the engine started.

"Let's get you guys outta here," he whispered, as the truck drove into the flaming rubble.

* * *

><p>"Thunderbird 1? How do you read me?"<p>

"Green," Alan answered automatically. Jeff had taken '4 as he had more experience in the yellow sub and, anyway, the youngest Tracy had already damaged it once. But he was getting slightly annoyed with the fact his father kept checking up on him. This was taking sooo long. If only he was allowed to push '1 to her full speed, instead of keeping pace with '4. No matter what Gordon said, the other Thunderbirds were faster than the yellow sub.

"Good. Alan, feel free to go to full speed now."

Alan jolted back into reality. "Really?"

"You'd get there quicker, and be of more use. Go on - your brothers need you."

He grinned. "You've got it, Dad." He accelerated the rocket-plane, sending it flying towards the horizon, faster than any other craft known to mankind. Approaching the danger zone, he slowed down and began losing height, wondering what he was going to find. He closed his eyes, silently reciting the plan of action:

"Drop off equipment to Gordon. Get in contact with Thunderbird 3, and then get Scott back."

He grinned to himself. "Then make sure this sucker Rarl is well and truly busted."

"Thunderbird 3, from Thunderbird 1. John?"

"Alan! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Dad's in '4, and I'm about to drop off some equipment to Gordon."

"FAB."

"Oh, and then I'm coming after you. Virgil's been banished to the Infirmary, where he's basically been locked."

He heard John laugh. "Yeah, I can imagine that, sprout. Okay, Thunderbird 3 out."

"FAB."

Alan stared at the smoke rising from the smouldering rubble that lay in front of him and shivered. He couldn't help having a bad feeling about this rescue.

* * *

><p>"Well, well, well." Scott froze, his hand hovering over the box. Oh damn. I'm busted. He started backing away, to bang into something that he knew instantly was not a wall. He turned round slowly, to come face to face with Rarl who was looking vaguely amused.<p>

"That was a very bad idea," Rarl spoke softly. "Do you know that I was going to let you off lightly? Well now I won't. Now, please, give me back control of the Thunderbirds."

"Never." Scott caught sight of the open door and started carefully edging towards it, only for his movements to be stopped by the hand-cuffs. Rarl leaned over him, smiling.

"Don't try and run away now, we were just becoming friends."

Scott glared at him and then brought his foot up fast, catching Rarl on his knee and sending the older man smashing into the wall. Rarl took a moment to catch his balance and then stepped forwards, blood trickling down his face.

"Now that wasn't very nice. But if you want to play that way..."

Scott acted on instinct, flinging himself away from his position beside the box, a split second too late as a knife grazed his injured shoulder. He bit back a curse as pain shot down his arm. He needed to get out of the hand-cuffs.

Rarl collected his knife. "What are the access codes?"

"Get lost," he told him, trying to spot a paper-clip or a piece of metal. There was nothing.

Rarl twirled the knife between his finger tips. "Very well."

One moment Scott was trying to avoid the knife, the next he had a gash in his shoulder. "You're not as good as someone else I know," he commented, thinking of Kyrano.

"Oh really?" Rarl put down the knife. "But I bet this person you know does not have friends in high places?"

Scott eyed him suspiciously. "What's that meant to mean?" Geez, what could he use to stop his shoulder bleeding?

"I could get people to force your Thunderbirds to the ground. I could get your brothers arrested. I could get Thunderbird 2 boarded and flown off. I could-"

"Alright I get it!" Scott yelled at him.

Rarl smiled. "No, you don't. If you got it, then you would be giving me the access codes."

"Never."

"Let's make this more interesting, shall we?"

"Last time you said that, you tried to drown my younger brother."

"Oh you remember that, do you?" He grinned. "How delightful. How about we use water again this time? And what about a different brother?" He spoke into a small grey radio. "Release the bait."

"Bait?" Scott glared at him.

"My previous plan may have failed, but there are still people who need rescuing. So let's let your family do what they do best - rescue." Rarl stepped over to the control box, and cut the communications. "You have another chance. What's the access code?"

"No idea." With still idea what the 'bait' was, Scott found himself forced back against the wall.

Rarl smirked at him. "Big mistake, Scott Tracy. Big mistake."

He stalked over to the door and waved before stepping outside. Scott heard the click as the lock turned. A moment later a gurgling noise could be heard and he froze, looking around.

"Water."

* * *

><p>"Thunderbird 1 to Fire-Truck."<p>

Gordon turned as his younger brother's voice echoed through the radio. "Hi Alan."

"Where do you want the equipment?"

"In the pod, thanks." He whistled as another flame lapped at the windscreen. It was getting hot in the truck and the heat from the flames was messing with the heat-sensors. From what he could see, there was no-one left in the danger zone. Time to put out the flames.

Reaching out for the lever, he directed the liquid that would put out the fire and frowned as he heard a faint cry. After listening for another moment, Gordon decided he'd imagined it and pulled the lever, directing foam over the flames. For a moment, all he could see was smoke and then he turned the truck and headed back to the pod.

As he pulled up in front of '2, he spotted Alan hovering around the entrance, Thunderbird 1 next to the green Thunderbird. Gordon drove the truck into the pod and then made his way down to where Alan was waiting.

"You ready to go?" He asked and frowned when Alan shook his head and pointed at something in the smouldering wreckage.

"Look," Alan pointed at something which was moving. Gordon blinked at first thinking it was some kind of animal only to realise it was a child.

"I'll go get it. You can start taking off if you want, Allie. I'll only be a moment."

Alan shook his head. "I'll wait."

Gordon shrugged and ran out into the rubble to where the child was crouched. "Hey kiddo. What's your name?"

The child glanced up at him. "Where's my Mummy and Daddy?"

"I don't know but why don't we go and find them?"

The little girl stared up at him, trembling. Gordon glanced round, spotting a small crowd gathering. Alan was managing to fend them off for the moment but it was only so long until someone attempted to board one of the Thunderbirds. God only knew where the policemen had gone.

"Come on." He scooped the kid up, knowing that he was probably going to pay for it with his back later and headed back to Alan.

"Excuse me!" He turned to spot a police officer running over.

"Yes?" He stopped, suddenly realising that the uniform was very much a fake. "Who the hell are you?"

"Your worst nightmare."

Realising he'd walked into a trap, he tried motioning for Alan to stay back, but his brother came running over, just as something crashed down upon them and Gordon threw himself over the kid and Alan.

* * *

><p>"Thunderbird 1? Thunderbird 1, come in." John slowed Thunderbird 3 down. Scott's transmitter had stopped working and John could only hope that it was because his older brother had turned it off. Alan should have been on his way by now.<p>

The red rocket hovered in the sky and John stared down at his information. He could keep going and hope that Scott was at his last known location or he could turn back and find out what the hell was going on with the kids.

"Thunderbird 4? For crying out loud - would someone freakin' answer?" John felt himself beginning to lose patience. There was no reason why Jeff couldn't answer his radio - Brains was scanning the area around the yellow sub for anything that could be dangerous so Jeff was safe. He was deliberately choosing not to respond. John punched the seat in frustration before remembering he wasn't in his own Thunderbird.

"Thunderbird 3, head for the hospital grounds."

John jolted forwards in his seat. "Sorry, please repeat Thunderbird 4." Why the hell was Jeff using codes anyway?

"Head for hospital danger-zone."

"FAB." John swerved round and headed back to the direction he'd come in. "What the hell happened? There's water - deep water - everywhere!"

"They've burst the water mains all over the city." Jeff reported.

"Houston, we have a problem," John muttered sarcastically under his breath. Circling the sea of water, he suddenly realised that they had a much bigger problem. Several actually. He was the only one there, and Scott, Gordon and Alan where under water somewhere. That was one flood, he thought to himself. Now what the devil was he going to do about it? He had no equipment designed to cope with an emergency to do with water. '3 was for space rescues, and for being treated as a taxi between '5 and Tracy Island.

So somehow, he needed to reach '2. Damn.

John flew close to the water, next to '2, noting with a feeling of dread that the entrance was under water. But if he could somehow activate the entrance that was on the top of the Thunderbird, then he'd be able to enter. Access codes...he could activate it from '1 as the two Thunderbirds always went on rescues together, so it was possible to fly one from the other if something happened. Like this.

Setting '3 on auto, he opened the entrance and jumped out. The wind howled round him and then he found himself clinging onto the edge of '1's left wing, dangling close to the water. John dragged himself back up and then half climbed, half slid, over to the entrance and fell inside.

For a moment, he stayed crouched on the floor, trying to calm his erratic heart-beat and breathe normally. Then he sank into the seat and reached forwards for the controls before stopping and trying to remember what to actually do.

Oh great. He didn't know how to fly the Thunderbird.

John glanced out the window. It was a miracle that the two Thunderbirds had remained standing against the sheer force of the water and it was a credit to Brains. He turned back to the Thunderbird's controls. He had never flown '1 apart from 3 times - when Scott had been injured and Alan was ill, and when he was the closest to the Thunderbird when they were in a dangerous position in front of an exploding volcano. He couldn't remember what the other time had been.

Damn it! He knew how to do this. Well - he had done. About three months ago.

Oh stuff it. John activated the engines and then closed his eyes. He could do this. He opened his eyes and grinned, remembering what he'd done on simulators. Slowly, '1 rose into the air and John swerved sideways sharply, to avoid hitting '3. There was a patch of land free of water next to the shell of what had been the hospital. Everyone was gathered there.

Awesome! He could find Alan and Gordon!

Landing '1, and activating the entrance on top of '2, he ran through the crowd of people, colliding with an officer.

"Are you looking for your colleagues?"

John nodded. "Yeah. Do you know where they are?" He grinned hopefully at the guy.

The police officer shook his head sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, mate."

John stared at him. "Huh?"

"Your friends. The other International Rescue guys. They were in the danger zone when the flood water came. I'm really sorry, believe me. They were great guys. There's no chance of surviving that though. Sorry...were they close to you?"

"Very. They were..."

"Family?" John stared at him. The officer sighed. "The blond one. Could have been your twin."

"Oh..." John stumbled backwards. Gordon and Alan...dead? No...no! Sprinting back to '1 and flew the Thunderbird into the air and stared down at the flood water. This was the Terrible Two - they always survived.

Or have we all cheated death for the final time? John thought to himself. Oh god - no more pranks. No more crazy yells of I'm gonna kill you!

They can't be dead. I won't let them.

The water had spread across the entire city and John froze in his seat realising what it meant. If he went to try and find his two youngest brothers, then Scott wouldn't have a chance. But if he went to get Scott, then Gordon and Alan wouldn't have a chance...

That evil...John clenched his fists. Rarl had known he was coming. He'd been planning on flooding everything anyway. That way at least one of them would die.

"Thunderbird 4...come in. Wait - Thunderbird 4!" He shot upright in the seat. "Dad, how far away are you?"

"ETA: 20 minutes."

"Scrap that - can't you go faster?"

"No - John, what's wrong?"

"I'm being made to choose which of my brothers to save." John muttered and swore.

"Don't use that language."

"Why the hell not? If I go after the Terrible Two, then Scott will die! Dad...I.." He flopped back in the seat, the fight draining out of him. "What do I do?"

"I can reach where you are now in 10 minutes. How fast is the water rising?"

"You'll have five minutes when you get here."

"Okay. Clear some water, not all of it, or they'll figure out our plan. Then go after Scott."

John relaxed slightly. At least he had a plan. "FAB."

* * *

><p>Wow. It was amazing how quickly the room was filling up, Scott thought to himself, leaning back against the wall. He'd given up on trying to get the hand-cuffs off and was watching the water rising round him. Hmm - why was it red?<p>

'Cos your shoulder's bleeding? Oh yeah, well done Einstein. You figured it out.

Damn he felt dizzy. Not good.

Stay awake, Scott Tracy.

Or, on the other hand - no-one's gonna get here in time. So you may as well let yourself become unconscious. Better than knowing you're drowning.

What a decision... Wow - the water's really high...

* * *

><p><em><strong>There you go! A nice little cliffhanger for Christmas Day! *grins* Um...*tries to think of something good about the chapter* at least I didn't hurt Virgil for once! *pats him on the back*<strong>_

_**Anyway, happy Christmas! And see you soon with the next update!**_

_**Kat x.**_


	16. Chapter 16

**_Well hi! I am now about to dash off to see my Uncle and his girlfriend but I thought I'd post this before I left!_**

* * *

><p>It was dark and Alan blinked, for a split second wondering if International Rescue was a dream and he was in his bed at home in Kansas. If Lucille dying was a nightmare. Maybe everything was different.<p>

Then he felt his fingers brush across something that was not from their childhood. His watch. He felt round for the inbuilt light and illuminated where he was. He was in some sort of cave...

He frowned, certain he was meant to have been remembering something. His head was throbbing and he reached up to find he was bleeding. Ah - that would explain the killer of a head-ache... He wondered how Gordon was...

Gordon! That was who he was meant to have remembered. He remembered looking up and seeing water rushing towards them, and then Gordon had flung himself on top of him.

"Gordon! Where are you?"

There was no reply, just silence. Alan closed his eyes, forcing himself not to panic. Then using the light of his watch to see, he crawled in all fours across the floor and then his foot slipped on something and sent him flying.

"Damn it," he cursed as he landed awkwardly beside a wall. Looking up, he realised where he was. In some sort of cellar. It must have belonged to the hospital, but there was a grate in the floor which the water that had fallen through with him had obviously drained out through.

Alan glared as the light on his watch faded and then blinked as he spotted someone lying in the corner. He climbed over to the person and recognised him instantly.

"Gordon. Come on...wake up."

Damn, damn, damn, _damn._ Alan shrugged off his sash and wrapped it round his brother, and sat down beside him, trying to figure out how to get the light back on. He shivered, glancing down at Gordon. It was so unnatural for Gordon to be that still. He always seemed to have never-ending energy.

"Wake up. Damn it Gordon - wake up!" He glared down at himself. "Sorry." He whispered. His watch wasn't working and he was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to see Tracy Island again.

Hopefully John had found Scott and they were all safe. And hopefully Fermat would tell Tin-Tin that Alan loved her, seeing as Alan couldn't do it himself.

"I am such an idiot," he whispered to himself. He should have just told the kid to run and then Gordon wouldn't be injured and he wouldn't be by himself. "God...I don't want to die..."

"You're not going to. If I have a say in it that is." A weak voice announced. "And you're not stupid. Well, apart from when you claim '3 is the best Thunderbird, when it's clearly '4 that has that title."

Alan jumped, grinning madly. "Gordon!"

"Allie - where are we?" Gordon frowned round at their surroundings.

"Cellar. I think," he replied.

"Oh." Gordon fell silent again and then a small smile appeared on his face. "By the way, I hate water."

Alan laughed, hugging him. "Okay, if I promise not to do anything stupid, you have to promise not to die."

"Thanks for cheering me up," Gordon muttered sarcastically and grinned. "I'll try not to."

"Good."

"Hey...um Alan?"

"Yeah?"

"When you were at home...did you feed my fish?"

It was such an absurd thing to worry about in their current predicament, and Gordon looked so serious that Alan couldn't help but laugh and after a moment, Gordon joined in.

* * *

><p>"Thunderbird 4 to Thunderbird 2." Jeff caught himself biting his fingernails again and frowned. The nagging worry that threatened to stop him thinking straight was beginning to rise up inside him again.<p>

His youngest two were survivors, he knew that and kept reminding himself of the fact. But although Gordon was the greatest swimmer he'd ever known, and Alan had excelled on the survival training courses, how were they meant to survive when they'd been taken by surprise? In a flood as well? They had no supplies...

"Hey Dad." John sounded exhausted.

Poor kid, Jeff thought to himself an a ghost of a smile drifted across his face. John was not a kid anymore, but that didn't stop Jeff thinking of him as one still.

"Any luck John?" He asked, trying to stop the hope creeping into his voice.

"No. Dad...do you think that...you know..."

"Your brothers are survivors. They'll be fine." If they don't do anything stupid, Jeff added silently in his mind. The one good thing was that it had been Gordon and Alan, though, he thought to himself. The two were very close, so they would make a great team.

"Okay. Anything else for me to do? I've drained a bit of the water...except..."

Jeff sat up straight in the seat, making a mental note that he was going to fly Thunderbird 1 instead of '4 next time. "Except what?" Is he okay?

"The pod's water-tight and there was nowhere else to drain the water into, so I've drained it into the pod. I'm going to have to leave the pod behind, but no-one can get in."

Jeff grinned. "Thank god! I thought you'd hurt yourself or something!"

John was silent for a moment. "Shall I go get Scott?"

"Yes, but remain in contact for the whole time."

"I can't do that or they'll know I'm coming." John pointed out. He sighed. "Dad, trust me on this."

Jeff stayed staring out at the cold waters that surrounded the yellow sub. "Okay," he whispered. Of course he trusted John, he just didn't trust him not to do anything stupid to save his brother.

"Thunderbird 2 out. Heading back to Thunderbird 3."

The connection went dead and Jeff punched the seat before reminding himself that he shouldn't do that because this was Gordon's thunderbird, and he wouldn't want to find his baby hurt if he came back.

Jeff froze, startled. If. If he came back. Oh god...

It was finally sinking in that his babies might not come home. He pushed the Thunderbird past her safe top speed, all but frying the engines. Time to get his sons back.

* * *

><p>Damn, damn, damn, damn. John sat shivering in the red chair of Thunderbird 3, soaking the seat with the water from his now drenched clothes. He was trying to keep warm but it was no use. There was no way he could figure out how to put the heating on and he was feeling like an icicle.<p>

A buzzing sound came from the controls, alerting him to the fact he'd reached his destination. John leaned forwards, tugging the blanket he'd found in the emergancy survival kits in the back of the rocket further round him. A glance out the window revealed that the water level had reached the roofs of buildings.

Oh my god. John stared, numbly flicking a switch that would stick the rocket on hover mode. He shook his head, reminding himself that he had no idea which level of the building Scott was actually on.

"Let's go." He muttered to himself, grabbing the emergancy pack which he shouldered and then headed for the exit. The Thunderbird was close to the water, but not so close that it would covered by the water within the hour. John paused, then jumped out the doors, bracing himself for the freezing waters.

Ice cold water seeped through his clothes and he accidentally breathed in. Instantly he starting coughing and kicked out, grabbing at anything he could find. His fingers clutched at something that felt like the top of a wall, or maybe it was a roof. He dragged himself out the water and collapsed on his front, coughing and spluttering, trying to breath normally.

When he'd caught his breath again, he sat up and checked that everything in the pack was alright. It was, and he crawled forwards on his knees to avoid loosing his balance.

John stumbled over something and reached forwards with his hands to keep himself upright only to realise there was nothing in front of him as he tumbled down something.

Ouch. He sat up, realising he was in a stairway. The emergency lighting lit the whole area with a warm green glow and John stepped forwards, feeling round the electrics to find the wires. Then, with the pocket knife from the pack, he cut the wires.

Everything was pitch black. Until he activated the light on his watch and made his way further down the stairs until he came to the last step. After that, everything was covered with water. He took a deep breath and then plunged into the water.

There was a doorway to his right and John kicked at it, to find it was locked. There was a small patch of air between the water and the ceiling and he swam up to it to breathe. Then fumbling with a paper clip he had in his pocket, he fashioned it into a key-like shape.

There was a click and then the door swung open. John frowned, and made his way into it. The room was partly water-tight as there was still a quarter of the room left free of water. That was the one good thing, John thought to himself. Now where the hell was Scott?

He turned, swimming further into the room and then stopped. He'd found his brother...except now it was time to panic.

"Scott?" John wasn't expecting an answer and he didn't get one. Damn - with Scott unconscious, he had no way of knowing if his older brother was okay or not. Glancing round, he retrieved his paper clip, unlocking the hand-cuffs.

"Scott, wake up. For me? Please?" John couldn't help begging. He reached into the pack, pulling out a bandage and wrapped round Scott's shoulder as best he could. Then he tried to drag his brother out the room to remember something he'd forgotten.

How the hell was he going to get Scott into '3?

* * *

><p>Gordon was trying to hide the pain in his back from Alan, but his younger brother was beginning to suspect something was up, Gordon could tell.<p>

"Are you sure you're okay?" Alan asked him, frowning.

Gordon nodded, wincing as the aching in his head increased. Geez, he had one hell of a headache, thanks to landing on his head. Alan stopped walking and sat down on a crumbled patch of wall to look at his brother.

"I don't believe you for one moment."

Gordon sighed, all but collapsing down onto the wall beside his younger brother and draping an arm round Alan's shoulders. "Okay," he admitted. "You've got me. My back's playing up."

"I always get you," Alan grinned. "Do you reckon you re-damaged it picking up that kid?"

"Probably," Gordon frowned. "Do you reckon that kid was being used as bait or something, because I'm certain she wasn't there before."

"I didn't think of that." Alan shoved his hands in his pockets to try and re-ignite some feeling his finger-tips. "God, I'm so cold."

Gordon went to take off his jumper for Alan to glare at him."Don't even think about doing that."

"I'm not doing anything," Gordon protested.

Alan gave him a disbelieving look and Gordon grinned. "Sorry, sorry."

He watched as Alan stood up and made his way over to the corridor they'd been walking down. It seemed that the explosions above ground had not effected the cellars, apart from odd crumbled brick-work, but that could have been there anyway. God only knew when someone had last been down there.

But that did mean that there was no lighting, and they were relying on Gordon's watch to light the way for them. They had no back-up if the light died. Alan's watch had been busted and Gordon had left his torch on Thunderbird 2, not having seen any need ofr him to bring it on the Fire Truck.

"Gordon, answer me honestly. How much further can you walk?"

Gordon stared down at the ground, considering the answer. His usual answer would be that he could walk just as well as everyone else, but he never could lie to Alan. "I'll be good until we get to a stair-way."

"You certain?"

Gordon frowned. "Alan, if I can't walk any further, then trust me, you'll know about it."

Alan kept looking at him for a moment for nodding and turning back to the hallway in front of them. Gordon stood up, trying not show any discomfort as sharp pain shot up his spine.

"It starts sloping upwards," Alan reported. Gordon closed his eyes, cursing Rarl and his bad luck.

Alan started up the corridor and after a pause, Gordon followed him, only to reach the part where it sloped upwards sharply, and have agony engulf his back.

"Geez! Gordon!" Alan turned to spot his sibling collapsing to the ground. He all but flew across the short distance, catching the aquanaut just before he hit the ground.

"Change of plan. I've decided that I can't walk slightly earlier than I'd planned," Gordon grimaced.

Alan stared down at him, clearly at a loss. They couldn't stay there, that was obvious, but there was absolutely no way Gordon could walk, and Alan was not going to force his older brother to move, not when it was clear that Gordon was in pain, however much he was trying to hide it.

"Alan." Alan blinked, looking down at Gordon who was holding something out.

"Huh?"

"Go and get to safety." Gordon shoved his watch in Alan's fist.

Alan stared at him. "I am not leaving you."

"Seriously? I'm telling you to go."

"You can't tell me." Alan retorted.

"I'm older," Gordon grinned. "Alan, please, just go."

Alan looked down at the watch and back at his brother. Gordon shot him a pleading look and he stepped forwards.

"Gordon - don't..."

"Die?" Gordon grinned. "I'll try not to."

Alan turned to go up the corridor and switched the light back on. Then, with a guilty feeling, he continued on, leaving his brother behind.

* * *

><p>Virgil sat on the edge of the bed in the infirmary, glaring at the door. Brains shot him and apologetic look.<p>

"I r-really am sorry, Virgil."

Virgil nodded and then felt guilty. Poor Brains - he hadn't done anything wrong apart from following Jeff's orders of not allowing Virgil out the Infirmary, and yet Virgil was ignoring him.

"Sorry Brains," he sighed. "I'm just worried, that's all."

"Your b-brothers will be f-fine," Brains told him. He paused and then self-conciously handed Virgil a key. Virgil shot him a questioning look. "For the d-door over t-there. Y-you can go t-to y-your studio. There's n-no way y-you can get off the i-island w-without me knowing."

Virgil grinned at him. "Thanks Brains." Great, so he could paint! Finally he could do something to take his mind off the fate of his brothers.

He frowned out at the sky. Come on guys. Come back safely.

* * *

><p>John scrambled across the roof tiles, trying to pull Scott with him. He frowned, looking down at his hands which were covered with blood. Damn, damn, damn. That wasn't his blood, which left Scott. That shoulder wound should have stopped bleeding by now.<p>

Scott was still unconscious and John was getting seriously worried. Because of the flood water, he had no idea if the pilot had breathed in any water.

"Sorry Scooter. I have to go for a moment," he whispered and then activated the platform from '3. No doubt Alan would kill him if he ever found out about the damage John had done to the rocket to 'modify it' so that it would drop the platform from '3 by remote. Well from his watch, but anyway.

Scrambling onto the platform, he pulled Scott on next to to him and then waited for a moment, before the platform started to raise.

The platform entered the Thunderbird and then the doors closed. John got up for a moment, wincing. Hell, he was going to have some brusies tomorrow.

"Time to go home." He whispered, and he had never been so glad to think about Tracy Island.

* * *

><p>Gordon sat on the floor, shivering. It was pitch-black since Alan had taken the light, and he was cold. After he'd been drenched, he hadn't dried off and his back was killing him.<p>

Footsteps echoed through the corridor and he reached down for his gun to discover it was gone. Oh well, he was absolutely defenceless. He couldn't get up and he had no way of defending himself from the ground.

Then a figure came into the corridor and Gordon frowned, only realising who it was when the guy hugged him.

"You'll have to put up with me, 'cos I'm not leaving you."

"Alan!" Gordon stared at him. "I did not recognise you," he grinned, secretly delighted to have his younger sibling back.

"Why?"

"Your hair's the same colour as Scott's."

Alan laughed. "Well you are looking remarkably like Virgil."

"I hadn't realised how muddy we'd got!"

Gordon grinned and after a moment, accepted Alan's offer of help. With his younger brother's help, he shifted back to the wall and rested against it.

"When do you reckon someone wil find us?" Alan whispered.

"Well when John finds Scott, he'll figure out something's wrong when he realises you're not in '1. So he'll notfiy Dad and come back and then...then they'll find us."

"Right."

There was silence and then Alan leant back against the wall besides Gordon. "Thanks for coming back, Allie."

He glanced across to see Alan smiling. "You're welcome. You're welcome."

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><p><em><strong>Review? Pretty please? <strong>_

_**Bye!**_

_**Kat x.**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**And here is a very late update! Sorry for the delay everyone! I had a lot of things I had to get done this week! So this was actually written last Saturday, and I had planned to post it on the Sunday, but obviously I got delayed! So here I am, a week later, finally posting it! *grins sheepishly***_

_**So, here you are!**_

* * *

><p>"International Rescue? Oh thank god!" The hysterical woman collapsed on top of Jeff as he stepped out of Thunderbird 4. "Everyone's this way! Are you going to get rid of the water! Have you seen my husband anywhere?"<p>

"I'm sorry, no, I haven't seen your husband. Yes, I am going to do my best to get rid of the water. When the rest of my team gets here, then we'll be able to retrieve everyone. Until then, could you keep everyone calm for me?"

The woman brushed back her hair and nodded. "I'm sorry to react like that."

Jeff smiled. "Don't worry about it. Everything must have come as a shock. But if you could keep everyone calm and tell them we'll be about an hour if everything goes according to plan."

"Of course," the woman sighed. "What is the plan?" Jeff was about to explain that it was confidential when she gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry. You can't tell me that."

"I'll have to get my equipment," Jeff told her.

She nodded. "Of course, um...Mr?"

"I can't tell you my surname. But you can call me Jeff."

"Charlotte." She shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you. I'd better go and tell everyone what's happening." Looking concerned, she added: "I don't suppose you would have a medical kit with you? Ours got washed away, obviously, and we have several people injured. One of them has a head injury, which I can treat but I would need a first aid kit."

"Sure, I have one you can use." Intrigued by this young woman, he continued talking to her. "You have training in the medical area then?"

"Oh no! I'm not qualified! Well, in a way I am, but I'm not a doctor or a nurse."

"What do you do?" Jeff asked her as he tried to find the first aid box.

"You wouldn't believe me," Charlotte chuckled.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

"I'm a retired MI5 agent. Well, when I say retired, I mean that I'm on leave. My husband was recovering at the hospital. He's also an agent...or was, until he got injured. That's why I was here...he was meant to have been released this evening. I was going to be caring for him for a while until he could be okay by himself for long lengths of time, so I could go back to work. I'm sorry, you don't want to be listening to my life story."

Jeff grinned. "Don't worry about it. It's good to have someone to talk to." He handed her the first aid kit. "Good luck."

"Thanks," she laughed. "I'm going to need it." She disappeared along the crumbled part of what had once been a bridge to where everyone was gathered. Jeff watched her go and then shook his head. He had a strange idea in his head that she would make a very good agent for International Rescue. But right now he had a job to do, and he had to do it well.

Actually, he couldn't remember when he'd last been in the field. With Scott as Field Commander, they hadn't needed the head of International Rescue to help out as well. Sure, he did the occasional rescue, but he'd never actually done one by himself.

Oh well. First time for everything.

Using the hover sled, he went over to '2. The big green Thunderbird was tilting slightly to the left, which was worrying Jeff. If Thunderbird 2 tipped over, it could cause a second wave, which would give the survivors no chance.

Climbing inside, he formed a plan of collecting the water in the pod and emptying it out by the coast, which wasn't far away. He could come back and forth until the flood defences that were built underground could deal with the access water. He'd open the flood barriers, using Thunderbird 4 and the water could drain into the chambers below.

That was going to take a long time, he realised. But with only him there, it was the best he could do.

He eased Thunderbird 2 into the air and entered her flight path. The first in a few trips, he thought tiredly. Never mind. All part of the job...

* * *

><p>Oh damn, was the first thought that came to mind. It was certainly getting cold now. Wait hang on a minute, wasn't he meant to be underwater now? He was pretty certain that he hadn't been in Thunderbird 3 before.<p>

"John?" He tried to say but ended up coughing.

"Hi Scott! Took your time waking up didn't you? And you say Virgil's bad."

"Wasn't that long," Scott mumbled, taking the water bottle John offered him. "Thanks."

"We're gonna go and help Dad. Or rather, I am, while you stay here."

"What?" He glared at his brother. "I am perfectly capable of helping."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"Scott, I am telling you that you are not up to helping us."

"Fine," he muttered, sitting back in the chair. "Seriously though!"

John turned to stare at him. "Did you just agree?"

"Yep..."

John frowned at him. Oh well, at least he was awake now. Now to get Gordon and Alan. Hopefully Jeff would have made a start. He was going to have a problem finding somewhere to land Thunderbird 3 though. Everywhere apart from the place where people were gathered was underwater. Shallow water now, yes, but still underwater.

"Thunderbird 3 from Thunderbird 2."

John headed back to the pilot's seat, taking the rocket off auto and replying. "Hey Dad!"

"Haven't ever been so glad to see Thunderbird 3, I have to say," Jeff told him, circling round in Thunderbird 2 and flying along side John, raising a hand from the controls to wave at his son.

John grinned. "Hey Scott. If you're not asleep again then there's someone who's pretty desperate to see you."

"Huh?" Still not totally recovered from his unconscious state, Scott made to walk forwards and ended up all but collapsing on top of John. "Oh right!"

Jeff waved from the green Thunderbird. "Hi! Are you okay?"

John let out an indignant cough. "Excuse me, I am just the one who he's just squashed. Oh no, don't worry about me."

Jeff laughed. "Are you taking '1, John?"

John stared at him. Oh damn...just when he'd thought he'd got away with it...

"What?" Scott yelled and then winced as his headache returned once more. "Oh...but..."

"No buts. John is flying Thunderbird 1. End of." Jeff told him firmly. "Now I have to go and find a place to land so no arguments. Am I clear?"

"We nearly all got killed at different points during the last 48 hours. Why the hell would we be arguing?" John muttered and then regretted it. Silence fell over the radio, and he looked out the window to see Thunderbird 2 ahead of them.

"Don't worry about it. He'll be fine," Scott told him.

"Maybe. Anyway, go back to that chair and sit down."

"Why?" Scott glared at him.

"Because seeing as I've just dragged you up two flights of stairs, got you into Thunderbird 3 and managed to fly back to the rescue site without you regaining consciousness, I think that just maybe you might need to have some time recovering."

"Okay, okay. Calm down." John checked that his brother had actually done as he was told for once, and then started loosing altitude.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay. Must have been tough."

"It was. As far as I knew, it was just me and Gordon. And now they're...what?"

Scott was staring at him in horror. "What's happened to Gordon and Alan?"

John silently cursed himself, for not remembering that Scott didn't have a clue what was going on. "They...got caught up in the flood."

"Have you heard from them?"

"No." There was silence and John landed '3 feeling like he really gone and out his foot in it. "Okay, I have to go and help. Stay here."

"FAB," Scott told him, still gazing at the water on the ground. "And John?"

"Yes?" He turned in the exit.

"Stay safe...please."

* * *

><p>"Alan? Are you okay?"<p>

"Just c-cold." Gordon shifted closer to him.

"Same. But we've got to keep talking, see?"

"But I'm tired." Alan whispered, shivering. There was still water trickling through the cracks above and the corridor was slowly filling up with water. The ice cold liquid was already up to their ankles.

There was a small gap in the wall which Alan would have climbed up to had he been by himself, but as Gordon was unable to walk, let alone climb, he had stayed on the floor. He was hoping his brother wouldn't spot it, because he didn't want to be alone, even if it did mean he was safer.

"Yeah, well I'm tired too. But keep talking, kiddo. Annoy me."

"How c-come you're n-not c-cold?"

Gordon grimaced, managing to bite back his reply that he was too cold to feel cold. Someone seriously needs to turn up the heating, he thought to himself. "I'm a fish," he whispered. "I don't get cold."

Alan smiled. "So I'm guessing you're not a t-tropical f-fish?"

"No. I get to see all the cool whales and sharks and stuff in the cold seas."

"Why d-don't you t-turn your w-watch on again?"

"I can't be bothered," He lied. The truth was that the watch's batteries had run out a long time before and he had no way of getting new ones. If John didn't get here soon then they were headed for serious trouble.

"Gordon?" Alan rested his head on his brother's shoulder. "Are we g-going to get out of h-here okay?"

"We'll be fine. Trust me."

"You k-know, l-last time you s-said that, was w-when we got l-locked in 4's pod. You had to launch '4 to g-get the d-doors to o-open and then w-we both got soaked with s-sea w-water."

"You know," Gordon said quietly, grinning. "You sound like Brains with that stutter." Alan smiled, yawning.

"C-can I s-sleep now?"

"No!" Gordon shouted and Alan gave him a hurt look. "Sorry Al, I didn't mean to shout."

"It's okay. Oh a-and I j-just remembered."

"What?"

"I d-did feed your f-fish."

Gordon chuckled. "Well that's one thing off my mind." With Alan not exactly that aware of what was going on around him, he started slipping off his jumper, so that he just had his IR uniform on. He draped it over Alan.

"Th-thanks..." The teenager whispered, warming up slightly.

* * *

><p>Jeff stared straight ahead, glaring out of '2's window. John was right though, and the day wasn't yet over.<p>

"Thunderbird 3, I have visual on landing strip."

"What?" John sounded confused. "Wasn't that underwater?"

"Was. I cleared some though, remember?"

"Oh, right. ETA: one minute."

"FAB Thunderbird 3. Thunderbird 2 out."

And now he had to go in '2 again, Jeff though in annoyance. It was funny how he'd spent so much time in the yellow sub, and yet he still disliked it. Not that it was a bad Thunderbird, but Gordon could keep it. He most certainty found it uncomfortable.

Stepping out onto the sodden grass, he half wished that they had some piece of equipment used to dry out the ground. He shook mud off one trainer, glancing up at the sky, waiting to see the red rocket appearing.

A hand suddenly placed on his shoulder made him jump. "Oh, I'm sorry!" A voice laughed. "But at least I know I'm still up to being an agent!"

"Charlotte," he grinned. "Hi. Are the injured okay now?"

"They'll be fine. There was a doctor amongst us actually, which came in handy!"

"I can imagine."

She looked up, trying to see what he was looking at. "Look there," he told her. She frowned.

"I can't see anything...oh!"

Thunderbird 3 came zooming in at a ridiculously fast speed, slowing down quickly. Jeff grinned, imagining the discussions that would cause when this was all over. All over...Jeff thought to himself, smiling. God, he couldn't wait...

"Hi! Shall I go get '1? Oh, hello."

"Hello," Charlotte shook John's hand. "I'm Charlotte. I've been keeping the others out the way so Jeff can do his job."

"Uh...right..." John shot his father a questioning glance as Charlotte made her way back to the survivors. "You told her your name?"

Jeff shrugged. "I think she'd make a good agent."

"Yeah...how do you tell Penny that? Hi Penelope! Just letting you know that I'm replacing you...so, how was your day?" John muttered sarcastically.

Jeff glared at him. "I am not replacing Penny!"

John grinned. "Joking. Joking."

"Fine..." He broke into a grin. "Right, you take '1 and keep an eye out for anyone approaching the Thunderbirds. I'll take '4 and open the flood barriers."

John frowned. "That wastes time. If I just go ahead in the Mole, then I can start checking underground in the area where all the water was swept for Gordon and Alan."

"Okay, that does sound better," Jeff admitted.

"FAB." John ran off towards '2 while Jeff climbed into '4. Now he remembered why he disliked submarines so much...

* * *

><p>"Are you awake?" Gordon whispered into the darkness. Alan blinked owlishly, trying to see his brother.<p>

"Y-yes."

"Any warmer?" Gordon personally was beyond actually caring about the fact he now had no jumper on and was drenched.

"A l-little, thanks."

Gordon frowned, sitting upright, and immediately regretting it. Settling back against the wall, he opted for listening to the strange noise he could hear coming from further up the corridor. It wasn't like he could see anything anyway. He wasn't an angler fish, although this was one occasion when he wished he was one.

"Can you hear that?"

"Huh?" Alan shook himself. "No."

"Maybe I'm just imagining it." Gordon listened again for a moment and then the scraping sound returned, like metal scratching against rock. Like the sound the Mole made when they used it. "The Mole!"

"W-what?" Alan was still shivering. "Where?"

"Um...I dunno, but I can hear it." He tapped his watch impatiently and it flicked into life only to die again.

"Hello? Geez, it's colder down here than that damn water earlier." The footsteps grew louder. "Anyone down here? Like, say, two of my brothers?"

"We're down here John!" Gordon yelled out, spotting the light of a torch. "Further down the corridor!"

"Fantastic! Is Allie with you?"

"Yes!"

"Oh great! I can tell Dad that I've found the pair of you without his help!" John looked smug. "Okay, do you want the second torch? The Mole's further down the corridor, but not far. Did you hear it? Bet you did. Are you hurt? It's cold down here. Why aren't you wearing your jumper, Gordon?"

"John?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up would you?" John grinned.

"That's more like it." Then lowering his voice, he asked: "What's wrong with Alan? He's not talking."

"I'd noticed," Gordon muttered. "He's freezing. That's why I gave him my jumper."

"Better hurry up and get back to the Mole. Dad's draining the water, oh, and Scott's been locked in Thunderbird 3."

"W-what?" A quiet voice whispered in outrage. Alan glared at John. "H-he'd better n-not break a-anything."

John stared at him, realising for the first time just how cold the pair of them must be. "Let's go," he announced. "It's not far."

Gordon and Alan looked at each other awkwardly. "Um...Johnny, we have a problem..."

"What's wrong?"

"I can't walk."

John studied him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was for real. Deciding that he was, he started jogging back towards the Mole. "You can get on one of the hover bikes though, right?"

Gordon raised an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"Ah, right. Bad idea. Okay, Alan, go and get in the Mole and radio Dad to tell him we're gonna be slightly delayed."

"But," Alan caught sight of John giving him a warning look and bit back his protest, instead turning and heading towards the drill.

"Okay, kiddo. Now let's figure out how to get out of here."

They sat in silence. "Well this is cheerful." Gordon grinned.

"I could carry you back to the Mole?" John offered.

"Ah no. That would give Alan too much blackmailing material."

"You're kidding!" John gave him an incredulous look. "You can't walk and you're worrying about Alan having blackmail material on you? The kid's probably worried sick, and I can guarantee he's not thinking about pranking anyone right now!"

"Fine. I could try and walk if you helped me I guess." John nodded, helping him up. Slowly limping along, they made their way along the tunnel until the flash light was reflected off something metal.

"Ah, my old friend the Mole! How wonderful to see you!" John grinned and then helped Gordon inside. "Right everyone. Ready to see the sun again? Not that there is much sun though - it's overcast, but anyway."

"Just get us home, Johnny," Gordon muttered, closing his eyes. Tracy Island...he was never going to complain about it again...

* * *

><p>Jeff was loading Thunderbird 4 into the pod when the rumbling sound announced the arrival of the Mole. From what Alan had told him, he'd gathered that both his sons were freezing and Gordon had re-injured his back.<p>

The silver tip of the Mole emerged above ground and then the whole drill rolled into the pod. Jeff ran to meet it, still sick with concern.

"Well what did I tell you? He was hanging around, pretending to be doing something useful when actually he was just worrying!" John called back to someone inside the Mole.

"I was being useful," he told his son, annoyed to find that his voice sounded sulky. John laughed, heading back inside the Mole.

"Well Gords, Dad can carry you now. I am not killing myself again."

"You hardly carried me!" Gordon protested, glaring at his brother. "I...um...used you as a walking stick."

"Ooh, getting old now are we?"

"If I'm old, what's that make you?"

"You had that one coming," Jeff grinned. John shot him a hurt look.

"Everyone's ganging up on me!" He whined, and Jeff shook his head.

"Go and prepare the Infirmary," he told him and John nodded, disappearing up into the heart of the Thunderbird.

"What? I do not need to go to the Infirmary!" Gordon protested. "Well, maybe a bit, but..."

"No buts. You haven't got a choice."

"Fine," Gordon glared at him, but it ended up turning into a grin. He turned to look at Alan in concern and it was only then that Jeff realised his youngest son hadn't spoken at all. He'd only heard him on the radio, and that was just a short message. Maybe he was just cold, Jeff thought to himself feeling hopeful that it was the cause.

"Okay, off to the Infirmary," he announced cheerfully.

"You make it sound like a land full of sugar and rainbows," Gordon told him sarcastically.

"Sugar? Who mentioned sugar?" John appeared once more. Frowning at Alan he whispered something to Gordon which Jeff didn't catch. But now he was certain of one thing - there was something wrong with the youngest Tracy.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Well, I promise not to torture them all that much! If that helps? And sorry for being slightly cruel to Alan. Okay, maybe more than slightly cruel! And do you know that I have just realised that I haven't written about what's going on with Rarl at all this chapter? *gasps* Oh well, I'll have to try and remember to involve him next chapter!<em>**

**_I'll try and stop talking (actually, I'm writing though, aren't I?) and go away to write the next chapter!_**

**_Bye! Oh and I nearly forgot! Review? :)_**

**_Kat x._**


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